Harry Potter and the Elements of Valor
by MadEye1200
Summary: Harry Potter and the Elements of Valor takes place in Harry’s seventh year at Hogwarts. The war is closing in around him and the threat from Voldemort is touching the lives of the people Harry cares for. Deception from within the Order has caused old tr
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Harry Potter and the Elements of Valor **

**(Sequel to: Harry Potter and the Dangerous Choice)**

**Prologue: Your Life Flashes Before You**

It's funny the way people say that at the moment just before you think you will die, your life flashes before you. Anyone who has not experienced this sensation must think it sounds unlikely and in fact, impossible. However, as you gulp the mouthful of water, before you sink below the surface for the last time, or as the telephone pole and the hood of your car make shattering contact on a dark and foggy road, or as you lay upon a battle field with a mortal wound; your life most certainly does flash past you in vibrant detail, as though that last instant contains all the time you need to view the entirety of your existence.

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, would have smiled to himself at the irony of it if there had been that much time. He didn't expect to last that long as he lay on his stomach sucking in, what he was sure were his last few breaths.

Clarity. That's what he had. Complete clarity. The sky above him was perilous with huge, unnatural, black clouds and wild lightening, like crazy fireworks or an ever-changing spider web of jagged light. The very air around him was pulsing with electricity. It was bizarre really, as his own frail circuits were about to fail for good.

There was certainly noise around him but he couldn't hear it. His ears were not admitting any sound. Perhaps his senses were shutting down, one by one. His mouth was dry as brittle leaves. His lips would not part to let out a cry for help. He tried to will his finger, just one finger to move against the surface he lay upon. No movement. No feeling. No smells of battle filled his nostrils, no whiff of smoke, no acrid scent of blood.

He had pushed the spell too far…much too far. He wished he knew if it had been enough.

Harry allowed his eyes to close and wished hopefully for the only thing remaining to him, he wished to see his parents, and perhaps Sirius beckoning to him with open arms. The pain was nothing now. He knew he should be feeling it, but it simply was not there; just a leaden body that he could no longer stir into action and a soul that was restless to be free of it. Then, unbidden, the flash of memory came. In it, he saw the whole of the past few months rush through his head in vivid detail. It took but an instant.

Authors Note: And so begins Harry's memory of his last year at Hogwarts and the final battle to fulfill the prophecy of a now dead seer. Harry's recollections hang upon the weakest of dying breaths. Within them, he relives how he has arrived at this perilous moment where, if nothing else, valor triumphed over all.

I hope you will stay with me for Harry's journey. I hope you will leave me your thoughts by clicking the "reviews" button. Many Thanks!


	2. RePotting Petunia

**Chapter One: Re-Potting Petunia**

The final scene of Harry Potter and the Dangerous Choice

…_Two days later, Harry stood in the dappled sunlight of the large beech trees within the high garden walls of his parent's home in Godric's Hollow. He stood at the gate waiting. Fred and George were lounging in the grass nearby, discussing advertising tactics for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. A pleasant breeze wafted through a bed of flowers as bees hummed, flitting about. Out in the lane there was a loud pop followed by the appearance of a violently purple triple-decker bus. Harry stepped out in to the lane and watched as the bus ground to a sudden halt next to him. The door opened and Harry heard Stan Shunpike's voice, "Come along now… that's it Miss… there you go now." Aunt Petunia appeared at the top of the bus steps, her hat was askew and her coat was hanging crookedly from her shoulders. She wobbled on her high heels as she descended to the ground. Stan hoisted a suitcase out on to the ground, shaking his head in apparent disgust behind her. She fumbled in her bag and pressed a shilling into his hand dismissively. He tipped his hat and turned the coin over in his hand in amazement, as he climbed back aboard. As soon as he had cleared the steps, the bus streaked forward and disappeared with a pop. _

_Aunt Petunia gasped, looking out in the direction that the bus had gone. Then she rounded on Harry like an angry wolverine. "I consented to come here, out of the pure goodness of my heart, but not to be nearly killed riding a…a….whatever that thing was!" she looked wildly around, "and where are we?" she screamed. "Don't tell me we have to walk from here…it looks like we are in the middle of no where…" Harry ignored her tirade and handed her a small piece of parchment. _

"_Read this," he said calmly. _

_Aunt Petunia pursed her lips and scowled as though the last thing she intended to do was comply with such a request. However, as Harry didn't move, she bent her head over the parchment and then looked up. Her mouth dropped open and Harry knew she was seeing his stone garden wall and the house beyond it materialize in front of her. He took the paper from her hand, hefted her suitcase and led the way through the gate._

**Chapter One:**

Petunia Dursley was certainly angry but also frightened and she was prepared to cover her fear by yelling at Harry. Therefore, as he led the way up the garden path toward the lovely cottage in Godric's Hollow that was his parent's house, now his house, she launched into a torrent of angry rebukes. Her face was very red, probably owing to her general state of resentment at having been dragged from her immaculate home, her husband and son, to somewhere that Harry was sure she would view as _God-forsaken_. It was a moment before she realized that Fred and George Weasley were walking just behind her.

"Mrs. Dursley," said Fred brightly, "how lovely to see you again."

"Smashing!" said George. "So happy you could make it."

"Can we take your things in, then?" asked Fred.

George took the bag that Harry was carrying and with a courtly bow, he and Fred headed for the cottage where a room had been readied for Aunt Petunia's stay.

"A bit peeved, isn't she?" asked Fred keeping up the running commentary. Aunt Petunia looked in his direction with a scowl.

"Why Fred, how insensitive of you. Of course she's upset," said George matter-of-factly. "Here she is, forced to stay in this lovely home for a month with nothing to do but lie about and let a house elf do the work. I'd complain too if I were her."

"Perhaps it's not the living arrangements. Perhaps it's us, brother," said Fred. "Perhaps she doesn't like us."

"No, it's definitely Harry she doesn't like. He's a real hooligan you know," George replied. Petunia pretended to ignore the twins, but glowered at Harry. He could tell it was going to be a rough four weeks, if this was how it was starting.

Once they had crossed the threshold, Harry turned right into the parlor, and then through to a sunny room at the back of the house. George had deposited her case on the bed. "This will be your room, Aunt Petunia," Harry began.

His aunt sniffed disapprovingly at the twins and then turned on Harry, before he could continue. "Let's get the ground rules straight right off..." she blustered.

Harry had determined not to allow her to dictate how life at Godric's Hollow would carry on. "This is my parents' old house, it's _my_ house. Aunt Petunia, I know you don't want to be here. I'm going to do what I can to make your stay comfortable. Dumbledore insisted on this arrangement to give me the blood protection of my family. I know you don't really care about that, but I can promise you that this is the last time you'll have to deal with me. Once you leave here in August, I won't ever bother you again." Petunia huffed.

"There is a house elf named Dobby here. He will do your laundry, make your bed, and fix all the meals. If you call him, he will appear next to you. Fred and George Weasley will be staying here. They're making sure that we are not attacked. You'll meet Conner MacNessa later. He is my tutor. He's also guarding us. Please be courteous to these people. They are my friends."

"If you need anything, we will try to get it for you. We all eat together in the evening at six. You can eat with us if you like or whenever you want. Dobby has said he will get you your meals when and where you want them."

"There is a wall surrounding the entire property. You should stay within the walls. If you were to leave, without our help, you could be captured. You wouldn't like that. You can do anything you like in the gardens," finished Harry.

"Basically I'm a prisoner, then; a prisoner of a bunch of freaks. I told Vernon that perhaps I would be home on the weekends. Dudley was devastated that I was going to be missing part of his summer holiday," said Petunia petulantly.

Harry was sure Dudley wasn't at all concerned whether his mother was at home of not. He sighed, "Dudley has his health and you have to spend a month in this house. You can't leave, or if you do, you do so at your own risk. The death eaters would be breaking down your door if you were at Privet Drive right now."

"Are you suggesting that Dudley and Vernon are in danger?" asked Petunia in shock.

"Actually, you are the only one that Voldemort would want to capture. Trust me, you're safer here, and Uncle Vernon and Dudley are safer because you aren't there."

Aunt Petunia seemed to want to dispute this point but decided against it. She was smart enough to realize this situation was beyond her control or understanding. "So," she asked stiffly, after a moment's silence, "where do I find the bathroom?"

"You have your own, through that door. The rest of us sleep up-stairs."

"Very well," said Petunia, trying to regain the upper hand, "I believe I'd like to be alone so I can rest. Is there a lock on that door?" She pointed to the bedroom door.

Harry suppressed a grin. It was hard to say all the things that made that comment funny, in a house full of wizards. "Fred," he called, "my aunt would like a lock on the door."

"Coming right up, mate!" said Fred brightly. He pulled his wand from his pocket and aimed it at the door from across the parlor. In a flash of light, a huge door lock appeared, like a lock on a prison cell. There was a large key stuck in it with a huge metal ring attached.

"There you are then," said Harry now stifling a laugh.

"I warn you, if I'm disturbed or …anything goes missing…or anything," said Petunia, looking suspiciously at Fred, George and Harry, "I'll….I'll leave!" she said finally.

George, tutted, "Poor Dudley…well I'm sure he's had a good life." George and Fred turned away shaking their heads, and headed back outside.

Harry gave his aunt a dismal look and closed her door, following Fred and George out into the sun.

Harry and the twins went back to their game of tossing a Quaffle around until Dobby appeared in the lawn with a pop a few minutes later.

"Harry Potter has very bad relatives," he said, his bat-like ears drooping down.

"What is it Dobby?" asked Harry.

"I is going to unpack the misses' trunk, and she is coming into the room from the bath while I is putting things away. She screams and begins throwing things at Dobby." Dobby picked a piece of broken porcelain from the tea cozy he was wearing as a hat. "She is very rude, Harry Potter."

"Just stay away from her Dobby. She just isn't going to understand," said Harry in exasperation.

As the sun began to set that evening, Mac arrived and Aunt Petunia seemed to find him as unacceptable as the rest of them. Mac was much kinder towards her than Harry would have expected, but his aunt seemed determined to hate them all.

It was too bad, really. Godric's Hollow was such a lovely peaceful place. Harry had spent two days exploring his new home before Aunt Petunia's arrival, and that had kept him busy. The house itself was a two-story affair with quaint sloping roofs, window boxes full of flowers and dark green painted shutters. There was a flagstone path from the front gate to the door. A huge side garden was visible from the open kitchen and the dining room, with its mullioned windows. The parlor was comfortable with a wall of bookshelves and winged back chairs. Behind the house was a small vine covered stone building that held garden tools and a workbench. The entire space was surrounded by the high stone wall that cut out the view of the countryside, but Harry didn't mind. It was his house and he thought it was brilliant. Dumbledore had made sure the house was fully furnished and it was cozy and comfortable.

There was a bedroom on the first floor with a bath and small sitting room, that Harry had designated for his aunt Petunia. Dobby had a room off the kitchen with a large dresser in it to store his many socks. The remaining three bedrooms were upstairs. Harry had the one at the top of the stairs. It had a fireplace and handsome old desk in the corner. Fred and George shared a room next to the bath and Mac took the smallest of the bedrooms at the far end. That one had windows overlooking both the front and rear lawns and Mac said he favored it because he could really keep an eye on things.

The most disappointing thing about the house was that it was not the original structure. The attack on his family so many years ago had devastated the cottage, according to Dumbledore. Only the small stone building near the wall had been untouched. The house had been magically restored after the attack, and to cover up it's ownership by Harry, was rented out to muggles for a few years before being closed up. As he had no memory of the original house, Harry couldn't really feel badly that this house was a copy of the one reduced to rubble by Voldemort's failed spell.

Along with Dumbledore, Fred and George had organized a schedule to help confuse the enemy, where one of them would be at the joke shop and one of them would occasionally stay at the Burrow. As twins who were seldom without the other, Dumbledore felt if one was visible people would assume the other was near at hand. Mac would be staying in the house most of the time. In all, Dumbledore explained that he wanted no less than two of them there with Harry at all times.

Fred and George had planned a _Welcome to the Hollow_ party for Harry's first night there. They had given him a complete tour of the house and grounds and organized a fabulous meal. They insisted that Dumbledore stay and he had agreed, with a chuckle and a wink at Harry. The party involved lots of food and a room full of Filibuster's wet-start fireworks. It finished with Fred and George sword fighting with turkey drumsticks.

The house made Harry feel happy. In some strange way, it made him feel closer to his parents. It may have been the buoyant attitude of Fred and George. They were full of tricks and jokes, and Harry found them hilarious. It may have been the chirping birds outside his window in the morning and crickets chirping at night, but after the first two days he was beginning to think the summer would not be so bad, but for not seeing Ginny. Whatever is was, it made Harry feel peaceful and safe.

Now that Aunt Petunia was here, the atmosphere seemed different. He felt nervous in the pit of his stomach. He knew she was going to be discourteous, insulting, and generally unbearable. When dinnertime came, Harry was determined to relax and not to mind whatever his aunt might say or do. Petunia appeared at six in the dining room, with pursed lips and a set jaw. Harry was pretty sure she had only come to the dinner table have a look at the lot of them. Mac, always the gentleman, stood up and went to pull a chair out for her. "Please," he said gesturing to the chair. Aunt Petunia looked askance at Mac's robes, but took a seat, perching on the very edge of it as though ready to flee at any second.

Dobby walked into the room, gave a disgusted look at Aunt Petunia, and then waved his hands. Platters of food filled the table while Petunia gasped and covered her mouth with a lace edged hanky. Harry worried about how Fred, George and Mac would take this, but they ignored her and began to fill their plates, talking about their day. Harry thanked Dobby who scurried away looking pleased.

Mac, seated next to Petunia, began loading her plate with boiled vegetables and chicken. Then he turned to her and said, "Beautiful home isn't it?" She didn't respond as she surveyed her plate. Petunia had lifted her fork and had it poised over her food. She seemed to be deciding whether to take a bite of the magical fare or not. "The food is quite good," said Mac, "and if the elf wanted to poison you, he would need young Harry's permission," he said straight-faced. Fred and George laughed. Petunia rose from her seat and stormed from the room. "Was it something I said?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry looked after her and then back at his friends. "I'm sorry she's so difficult. She doesn't like magic."

"Boy, we aren't offended. You shouldn't be either. She is simply a necessary evil right now," said Mac calmly.

The next day Aunt Petunia tried to venture out of her room to go to the garden. She ran into Fred who was reading near the back wall. She seemed to think Fred and George quite dangerous, probably because of the Ton-Tongue Taffy incident. She came back inside very quickly, muttering to Harry as she passed, that the twins were rude unnatural beasts.

To avoid conversation, Petunia often pretended to be reading a magazine as they played wizard chess or exploding snap in the evenings. If she ventured outside, she chose a bench as far from them all as she could manage. She also locked her door at night.

After a week, Aunt Petunia started joining them for meals. Some meals went better than others did. At breakfast on the eighth day after Aunt Petunia arrived, she ran screaming from the table when Fred and George both popped a Licorice Lizard into their mouth to demonstrate their newest sweet to Harry. They immediately sprouted lizard tails and long forked tongues, which they waggled at Harry's aunt.

"Not quite the effect we were hoping for, was it Fred?" asked George.

"No," said Fred, bemused, "We thought it a bit funnier than that. Well, back to the drawing board, as they say." Swinging his tail out of the way, he sat down to his breakfast.

"Dead useful though," said George who had used his long tongue to suck a piece of bacon directly into his mouth from the plate. Mac sprayed pumpkin juice over the whole table at George's comment. Harry nearly fell out of his seat with laughter. He thought how much fun it would have been to grow up sitting around a table like this one.

Aunt Petunia was not a sport about the rubber mackerels that kept appearing in her bed each night. Harry reckoned it was a charm the twins had used. He noticed a pile of them outside his aunt's bedroom window. She must have been tossing them out into the garden each night. Harry decided to speak to the twins, and try to get them to leave her in relative peace.

Harry received and sent several letters during the first two weeks of his exile. It turned out that Hermione and her family had taken a house in the south of France for the summer and had invited Ron to join them. Ron was excited and Hermione was looking forward to showing Ron more of the muggle world. Ron's mum had to purchase him some swim trunks and Ron was skeptical about them. "She bought maroon, of course," Ron had complained.

Ginny was complaining too. Now it seemed she would be all alone the entire summer what with Fred and George guarding Harry, and Ron off with Hermione. She said how much she wished she could be spending time with Harry rather than doing a thorough cleaning of the Burrow with her mum, and making gallons of hot tea for Order meetings, that she wasn't allowed to attend, at Grimmauld Place. Harry grinned as he read her letters.

Mac had begun some serious dueling training with Harry as soon as he had settled in at Godric's Hollow. However, that meant a lot of reading on Harry's part. Mac seemed to feel that the theory of combat was the basis of good dueling strategy, and heaped a load of books on him, then quizzed him about them each day. After nearly two weeks of this, Mac decided it was time for real dueling.

As Petunia fixed him with her usual deadly stare, Mac used his wand to create a large padded area on the front lawn for Harry's training sessions. "We've done what we can do from books, young Harry. This will give us a fine dueling area and we'll see what you are capable of," Mac said. Then he showed Harry several new spells for immobilizing an attacker. Mac enlisted Fred as a victim and Petunia watched, horrified as Harry and Fred disarmed and cursed one another for an hour and a half.

Mac was enjoying this immensely. He kept stopping them; showing them ever more complicated ways of subduing each other. Finally Harry and Fred both groaned as Mac was about to start them on another duel, and he called a break instead. Mac sunk down next to Petunia on the garden bench. Harry and Fred gratefully grabbed the glasses of cold pumpkin juice Dobby offered them. Harry heard Mac talking to his aunt. "Your nephew is quite a young man. Killed two death eaters last month, and they were both seasoned fighters. I couldn't be more proud of him… very proud indeed," said Mac in a satisfied tone. "Give me a couple months and I'll have him ready to take on a whole pack of those slimy devils." He slapped her on the knee and laughed heartily.

Petunia jumped away from him. "You mean to tell me that Harry has killed people? You're training him to kill people? Is that what they teach at that freak school?" her voice rising in alarm.

"It's them or him. He's a target of that scum, and I'm going to make sure he has more than a fighting chance," said Mac in a satisfied manner. Harry wiped his sweaty face with a towel and smiled into it as he did.

"You people are all the same. Keep away from me!" she snapped as she swished back into the house.

In the end, Harry ignored her. It was easier that way. Her opinion of him, his friends, and his world was not important. All that mattered was her physical presence. He would soon be of age in the wizard world and then he wouldn't need her any more. According to Dumbledore, the protection he had been receiving through her all these years would cease.

After two weeks at Godric's Hollow, life had fallen into a pattern. Fred and George came and went. At least one of them spent each night on guard duty near the gate. Mac took the day shift, and spent his time training with Harry.

In the afternoons, Dumbledore would come to work with Harry on his Elemental spells. The first time he had come to work with Harry, he had taken Mac with them to the garden. "Conner, I know your feelings about staying out of our fight, but as you are here and a part of Harry's guard, there are certain things that you will need to know. The main thing I think you should be aware of is Harry's abilities with the _Elementum Enchantments. _Harry can do wandless magic using earth, air, fire and water."

Conner sat quietly for a moment, then spoke, "I'm not surprised," he said. "One day last term, young Potter asked me a question about the elemental spells. Then I thought I saw him light a candle without his wand. I didn't question him at the time." He turned toward Harry. "You know boy, what a powerful gift this is. It is magic at its purist and deepest. Most wizards would give anything to wield the power that you will be able to wield someday. Still, it is said to be a difficult road to control and channel the elements to your whims."

Hearing Mac describe it made Harry feel very inept and not nearly awed enough by the power Mac thought he possessed.

"I am telling you this, Conner, because in addition to your lessons with Harry, I will be coming most days to work with him on these spells," explained Dumbledore.

Conner raised an eyebrow. "Albus, the boy will be drained from our dueling lessons. Then you are going to come along and lay him out flat trying to show him how to…to turn a man to ice with some blasted water spell. How much can the boy tolerate?"

Dumbledore chuckled a bit. "Harry's particular spell seems to be air, Conner." Mac's face took on a momentary look of realization and he glanced quickly at Harry's scar. Dumbledore's voice sharpened, "Harry could be attacked at any time. That is the reality of the situation. His ability to save himself is an imperative. If the training proves too intense, we shall back down."

Harry was of the opinion that he'd best take all the training he could get from Mac and Dumbledore, so he spoke up. "I'll try not to complain and I'll do my best to stand up to it. I'd rather work hard at it now. There's not much else I can do here after all." Both men smiled tired and knowing smiles at him.

As Harry practiced and expanded the things he could do with the ancient magic of the elements, he found that his ability with the three lesser elements was improving in variety and control. Almost every day he found new things he could do. The air spell, now practiced out of doors, was becoming stronger and also more difficult to control. It left Harry, fighting to focus its power, and very drained with each attempt.

Dumbledore was patient but Harry felt he was not progressing as fast as he should. Dumbledore wanted him to contain the storm that he produced, keep it smaller and more concentrated. Unfortunately, when Harry conjured the storm, it seemed to take control of him and not the other way round. As he got better, the storm got bigger, but it was still wildly outside of his control. He ended up on the ground and in need of a rest after each new attempt.

As the days past, Harry asked Dumbledore several times for information about Snape. It made him uneasy not knowing where the potions master was, and his rage at Snape's betrayal in the matter of the kidnapping the previous month was like a raw wound. Dumbledore, however, refused to tell him anything. Fred and George disliked Snape too, and seemed to have no information as to his whereabouts. Harry had daydreamed that if he knew where Snape was, he would go and find him, and finish their duel.

On a starry night evening about two weeks after his aunt had arrived, Harry heard the roar of an engine that seemed to be coming from over head. It was as if a small airplane was passing over the house. Harry bolted for the door and ran out into the front garden. It was George flying Harry's motorbike to Godric's Hollow. As he landed, he jumped off, grinning broadly at Harry. "Got your bike from Hagrid," said George. Harry dearly wanted a go on it, but the twins were taking their role of guarding Harry quite seriously, and refused to allow it. They parked the bike in the stone out building and told Harry he was free to look at it, ride in muggle style around the grounds, but under no circumstances was he to fly it. "It's not all that good anyway," said George unconvincingly, as they rolled the bike into the stone building.

"George, I've already had it up in the air, and it's incredible," replied Harry.

"Alright, it is," said George, smiling wistfully, "but you still can't fly it. Dumbledore's orders mate."

That night was calm and warm, and possibly to make up for not letting Harry ride the motorbike, Fred and George took Harry by the arms and escorted him out of the house at around ten and into the large side garden. They had constructed a bonfire there. Logs of various sizes as well as twigs and garden debris formed a sort of cone shape on a patch of cleared earth. Fred and George had placed stones all around it, and now invited Harry to touch it off. "A bonfire?" he asked, "Brilliant." These days any diversion was a welcome one. Harry started to extract his wand from his pocket.

"No Harry," said Fred, "use that fire spell of yours." Harry obliged and summoned fire. "He's amazing, don't you think George?" said Fred.

"He's absolutely spiffing," said George. "Why, I'd marry him if he wasn't so ugly."

Harry pounded George in the arm, and Fred piled on the two of them, knocking them all to the ground. They wrestled around for a few minutes and then lay panting on the grass, looking up at the stars.

"Any news in the Prophet?" asked Harry, sitting up after a bit. He only got to see the Daily Prophet if the twins brought it to the house. He guessed that they purposely kept him from seeing anything disturbing by simply forgetting it for a day or two. Harry had rather enjoyed the lack of angst from not knowing what was happening just now. Godric's Hollow felt like an oasis in a world of turmoil and he was almost enjoying it, although guiltily.

"Nothing really, just the usual. Ministry in an uproar, Bagman clueless, the price of pickled bat livers too high….the usual," said Fred. The night was quiet and pleasant as they sat staring into the flames. Then Fred looked around. "Harry," he asked leaning in, "ever have fire whiskey, mate?"

"No," said Harry cautiously.

"George and I think it's high time you tried the stuff, and we thought, what better time than now."

"I couldn't have said it better, bro," said George, producing three glasses. Harry turned and saw Fred set a bottle of Ogden's Old Fire Whiskey on the ground between them.

"Now Harry, as a neophyte drinker, allow me to offer you some tips," said Fred as he unwrapped and then uncorked the bottle. "There are three rules for drinking fire whiskey." Fred held up the bottle. "Never drink alone, that's one."

"Never drink less, or more than your mates," said George, holding out the glasses for Fred to pour.

George passed Harry a glass. A golden brown liquid swirled in the bottom of the tumbler. He held it up to the firelight. "Well, what's the third rule," Harry asked, tipping the glass to his lips. He swallowed a mouthful of the liquid, which immediately burned his throat so badly he sprayed it out at the fire, coughing.

"Brace yourself…that's the third rule," laughed Fred, patting Harry on the back. Harry snorted with laughter and George poured more into his glass. The fire whiskey did its work pretty quickly.

Soon everything that anyone said, struck Harry as terribly funny. After several rude toasts made by the twins, Harry turned serious, "Thanks both of you really for coming to stay here this school term…I mean summer. It's sort of like…it's like… having real brothers."

Fred re-filled Harry's glass. "Well, Harry, we feel like you are our brother. You saved us from years of hard work to get the joke shop going when you gave us that gold from the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"Ya," relied George, "and we can tell Ginny has her sights on you, so we figure you'll be around for a long, long time." George hiccupped abruptly. Fred and Harry both laughed.

Then Harry's fire-whiskey-slowed brain caught up. "What?" he asked, turning red.

"Dad told mum what he saw in the Pensieve, in Dumbledore's office. We were listening in," said George.

"Yes," said Fred, "we do that a lot."

"Mum thought it was '_so darling'_, if you can imagine," George said, breaking into laughter

Harry felt as though his head was packed with wool, "So, you two know about Ginny and me?"

"Are you dim mate?" laughed Fred, "that's what we're saying. Quick, George, get his glass. The fire whiskey is making him stupid." George grabbed for Harry's glass, and Harry stumbled to his feet, laughing. The three of them chased each other around the fire; they made wolf calls to the moon and finally, took turns trying to climb the stone wall. When they tired from the attempt, Fred helped Harry into the house. Aunt Petunia poked her head out of her room when they came into the house. "Dirty drunks!" she sputtered and slammed her door.

George put a finger to his lips and shushed them loudly. "We should be quiet or we'll wake the dead," he said giggling. At the top of the stairs Harry worked his way into his room, using the wall to steady himself then flopped limply onto his bed. "Night Harry," George slurred. Harry waved a hand at them without raising his head. Then he knew no more.

Harry was gliding through darkness. At first, he could only hear. A muffled voice was shrieking, "No!...No!...I won't tell you!" Then the voice was screaming; horrible, painful screams. The dark room started to come into focus. Harry was walking slowly into a large dimly lit room from where the screams were coming. He was calm and relaxed. Hooded figures were bowing to him on all sides. He raised a hand to them. Long white fingers dismissed the hooded figures from the room. The room was cold and dank. On the floor in the corner was a form huddled on a blanket.

A tall hooded wizard stood with a raised wand over the figure. "Master," it said, "I think we are making some progress, although I have not recovered the information you seek, as yet. I would like to try my special old spell, with your permission." The speaker turned and Harry knew it was Lucius Malfoy.

Harry felt himself nod, "Lucius, my friend, just remember that it is important that our guest is alive in the end, and able to tell what has happened. That part is critical."

Malfoy bowed slightly, "There is much I can do, my lord, without bringing on death." He laughed derisively and then beckoned to another hooded figure near the wall and said, "That bucket of water… revive our guest."

A high-pitched laugh filled the space as the water was tossed unceremoniously over the lifeless body on the floor. Harry's scar exploded in pain.

He was rolling on the floor when he opened his eyes, he was soaked with sweat and his scar, which had not bothered him now for nearly a year, felt as though it were being stabbed with a white-hot poker. Harry felt foggy and slow. He tried to recall what he had to do to keep Voldemort out of his head, for that was what the dream had been. He had been in Voldemort's head again. Harry exhaled and tried to concentrate. In a few moments, he had the pain and the vision under control.

Harry half crawled, half walked to the bathroom, and retched into the sink. Then he made his way back to his room.

The next morning his head pounded and he could not possibly look at the breakfast Dobby laid out in the sunny breakfast room. He spent his morning lying on the sofa with his eyes closed. Fred and George were much too cheery and annoying. Harry did not mention the dream. In the morning light, Harry could not be sure it was a real vision or a nightmare brought on by too much fire whiskey.

Aunt Petunia was again scandalized. It was becoming a regular occurrence.


	3. The Mark of Domination

**Chapter Two – The Mark of Domination**

Two very strange days followed the night by the bonfire with Fred and George. Fred took his turn going off to the joke shop the next morning. Except for Harry's pounding headache, things seemed quite normal. Mac laughed at his condition and told Harry that it wouldn't excuse him from his regular lesson, but then Mac decided to teach him some simple disguise spells and set aside dueling practice. Harry was very grateful, feeling that he would be hamburger meat in any fight today.

Fred returned around noon saying he had closed the shop early and then he took George off to the backyard. That seemed strange, but Harry's brain was too foggy to worry over it. Dumbledore did not turn up for Harry's Elemental spells lesson in the afternoon, but that was to be expected from time to time. Again, Harry was feeling a bit too slow to be able to concentrate on wandless magic so he settled instead for a nap in the sun.

George and Fred were very quiet during dinner and even Mac seemed in a tense and snappish mood. Aunt Petunia was the only one who appeared to enjoy the near silent meal. There was none of the usual banter, just the clicking of silverware on plates. The next day, George went off for a brief time and returned with a message for Mac, who left immediately, while George and Fred prowled around like restless cats for the remainder of the day. Dumbledore did not turn up that day either, but when Harry mentioned it to George, he did not seem surprised.

Harry could tell that something was definitely wrong. He tried several times to drag out of Fred and then George what the problem could be. He asked about the joke shop, and the Weasley family. They told him everything was fine and would say nothing else. The only information Harry received was when Fred remembered he had a letter for Harry and pulled a rumpled envelope from his pocket.

The letter was from Hermione. Harry tore it open, eager for news. She and Ron seemed to be having a great time in France with her parents. It sounded as though Hermione was dragging Ron to all sorts of museums, libraries and shops. Harry could picture Ron's face at the prospect of spending hours in a dusty old bookshop. It made him smile. He'd love to have a letter from Ron telling his side of the vacation. Ron and he were both rather inconsistent letter writers so a lack of a response from Ron did not bother Harry. Ginny owed him a letter too, but it had only been three days since he had got her last letter.

Apart from the behavior of the twins, the other thing that was disconcerting was the dream from two nights ago. Harry could not be sure it was a vision from Voldemort's head. It could have been that the fire whiskey had befuddled him. Still the nervous tension in house made him come back to it over and over again that day. The misty image would not go away; Lucius Malfoy torturing someone, a person who was not to be killed, in a place that Harry did not recognize.

By nightfall, Harry had decided he should tell Dumbledore about the dream. He'd have to confess to drinking the fire whiskey, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the nightmare was significant and not just a result of overindulgence. After dinner, he went to his room and penned a short note to Dumbledore asking that the headmaster find a certain potions book for Harry in the library. He did not sign it per Dumbledore's instructions. It was a prearranged signal telling Dumbledore that Harry needed him to come to the Hollow right away. He sealed the note then glanced at Hedwig who was quite put out that she was not being trusted with the post. "Sorry Hedwig," Harry said, handing her some owl treats by way of an apology. Then he went looking for Fred or George so they could post it.

The twins were not in the house, but Harry heard them talking out in the front garden. The night was misty and damp as Harry stepped out on to the front step.

"He can go to hell!" Fred was saying, hotly. "I'm going looking if they don't find something by morning."

"I agree. Mac can stay with Harry," George replied.

Harry walked out toward them. "What's going on?' he asked.

"Oh, Harry," said Fred turning quickly and looking guilty, "nothing...nothing at all."

"That's not true," Harry replied, "tell me."

"It's really nothing mate," said George, unconvincingly. "A matter at the store is all."

Harry had agreed to spend the summer in Godric's Hollow, isolated from everyone, but he was not going to stand for being kept in the dark about what was happening on the outside. Just as Harry was about to shout at the twins for keeping news from him, the front gate swung open and Dumbledore strode up the walk with a ragged, filthy bundle of blankets in his arms. Mac followed him inside and shut the gate. He had a cut over his eye and was breathing heavily.

Dumbledore, his eyes full of anger, did not pause, but walked quickly towards the house, giving orders as he went. "Conner, please take up watch here at the front gate." Mac nodded and drew his wand, facing the dark road outside. Harry fleetingly thought how strange it was to see Mac take orders from anyone. "Fred, George," said Dumbledore, "I have her." Harry didn't understand, but Fred and George rushed forward anxiously, and in the light coming out through the doorway, Harry saw a bruised and battered face amongst the folds of the blanket. In horror, he realized it was Ginny. "You two make ready to come with me." Dumbledore said, nodding toward the twins, "George, go and get Dobby, we would benefit from his help tonight."

Inside the front hall, Dumbledore hesitated an instant as Aunt Petunia stood blocking the way, trying to have a look at what was causing the excitement. "Harry, I need a bed," he said, ignoring her craning neck.

"Up here," said Harry, edging past them and running ahead up the stairs.

"Mrs. Dursley, please follow me," ordered Dumbledore in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Is she all right?" asked Fred and George at once.

Without a backward glance, Dumbledore said, "She will be fine, I will see to it. Now please go and get ready. Meet me at the gate."

For an old man, Dumbledore climbed the staircase with Ginny in his arms as though it cost him no effort. Harry had thrown open the door to his own room, as it was closest, and stood back to admit the headmaster. Dumbledore swept in and laid his bundle carefully upon the bed. Without taking his eyes from her, he said in a low voice to Harry and Petunia. "She has been ill used. Ginny has been the captive of Voldemort and the death eaters for two days. I am afraid she has been tortured. I strongly suspect her wounds have been poisoned. I am very concerned because she would not revive with the standard charm. I could not risk bringing her anywhere unless it was totally secure, and I cannot risk bringing anyone else here to help you. You two must follow my instructions tonight, and very precisely." Dumbledore emphasized those final words and Harry kept his many questions to himself. The image from his nightmare had arisen in shocking clarity, and he stifled the nausea rising in his throat.

As Harry watched Ginny's ashen, unconscious face, Dumbledore began quickly extracting several glass vials from his robes and placing them on the bedside table. "Harry, Petunia, please listen carefully, as Ginny's life depends on your actions tonight. First Petunia, she must be put in a tub of water, as hot as she can tolerate to remove the poisons. You must put this potion into the water," he said holding up a vial of orange liquid. Then he raised a purple vial that sparkled in the candle light. "She must have three drops from this vial on the hour, every hour." Holding up the third vial that looked pearly white, Dumbledore said, "These are phoenix tears to heal her wounds. Harry, you know how to use these, I think. Show your aunt how to apply them to Ginny's injuries."

Dumbledore took his eyes off Ginny who was turning her head from side to side restlessly, and he looked at Harry, lowering his voice even more, "It is extremely important that you do not use the mirror for the next few hours. I will contact you as soon as I can to check on Ms. Weasley's progress. Monitor her very closely. It is of the up most importance that you report anything unusual in her behavior. Do you understand, Harry?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Remember, DO NOT use the mirror," with that final, unsettling comment, Dumbledore was gone leaving Harry stunned.

Harry went quickly to the bedside. Ginny was muttering something he couldn't make out. He looked quickly over at his aunt as he started to disentangle Ginny from the grubby blanket in which she was wrapped. Aunt Petunia did not say a word, but turned on her heel and struck off down the stairs. Harry didn't know where his aunt was off to; perhaps to get something that they would need. Finally, he got the disgusting blanket free and threw it into the fireplace where it ignited with a loud POOF. Harry turned back to look at Ginny and even in the dim candle light, was dismayed at what he saw. She was lying in a nightdress that was as ripped and filthy as the blanket. Through the slashes in the fabric, he could see horrible, large, red welts and patches of dried blood. She had bruises on her arms, legs and face. He immediately felt a huge sense of guilt that he hadn't told Dumbledore of his nightmare.

Then Harry realized there was no noise in the house. There was no sound of someone opening drawers, looking for something; there were no hurried footsteps. Where was Aunt Petunia? They needed to get on with Dumbledore instructions thought Harry, beginning to panic. He called to his aunt but there was no answer. Harry swore under his breath, hesitated, and then charged down the stairs to see where she had got off to. "Aunt Petunia!" he called as he jumped the final three stairs and hit the hallway floor. Harry entered the parlor and saw that the door to his aunt's room was shut. "Aunt Petunia!" he called loudly again as he crossed the room.

"Leave me alone!" he heard her snap from behind the door.

Harry put a hand on the doorknob. "But Ginny needs help. Dumbledore told us what we have to do," Harry said trying to steady his voice against the alarm that was rising up in him. "I need your help with her."

"I did not agree to be nurse maid to some filthy, ragged girl he's dragged in here. I won't touch her. Poisoned! That's what he said. I'm not going near her. Handle it yourself." Silence fell after her words. For a heartbeat, Harry waited for more. Then he tried to turn the doorknob, but the door was locked.

"You miserable old hag!" Harry hissed, now fighting the urge to knock down the door and throw his aunt out into the road. He could not waste any more time cajoling his aunt so he raced back up to his room. Right now he had to help Ginny, nothing else was more important. Still, he wished he could hex his aunt for what she had just said. Why did she hate him so much that she would refuse to help him tonight?

As he entered the room, he saw Ginny had rolled to the edge of the bed, her eyes opened wide in terror, perhaps reliving some nightmare memory of the past two days. She tried to scream, but a hoarse moan was all that escaped her. Then she leaned over the edge of the bed and retched. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket. "Evanesco" he said, vanishing the mess. Ginny collapsed again, head lolling over the side of the bed.

Harry let out a stream of curse words, his anger in fierce competition with his anxiety. He ran over Dumbledore's instructions quickly in his head. "I can do this, I have to do this," he said aloud to himself, willing himself to breath.

He looked at his watch as he picked up the purple liquid and turned Ginny on to her back. He saw that her hair was filthy and matted as he supported her head. He put three drops of the potion on her tongue and she seemed to relax a bit, she ceased her muttering, and she laid still. Harry set the vial back on the bedside table, then he noticed something. Balled tightly in her right hand was something gold. He pulled her fingers open and they reflexively tried to tighten again. It was the rune necklace he had given her. She had clutched it so tightly that it had left an impression on her palm. Harry's eyes brimmed with tears. He noticed the chain was broken as he removed it from her grasp, and he set it on the table next to the potions.

_Remove the poisons… Hot water_. Harry heard Dumbledore's voice in his head. He pocketed the orange vial and pulled the edges of the blanket Ginny was lying on over her limp form, then gathered her up in his arms. He carefully negotiated his way down the hall to the white tiled bath where he laid her down on the floor, resting her head on a folded towel.

Harry ran the taps wide open and soon the tub was filling with warm, steamy water. He quickly gathered soap and a pile of towels from a shelf, setting them next to the claw-footed tub. Pulling the stopper from the vial that he extracted from his pocket, he dumped the contents into the water. A puff of vapor that smelled of pine trees rose from the water.

The tub filled fast. By the time Harry had everything ready, the water was hot and steam had fogged the mirror. He tested the water with his hand. It seemed all right. Unwrapping Ginny from the blanket, he lifted her and kicked the blanket aside. Then he lowered her slowly into the tub. The water immediately let out a sort of hiss and became dingy from the dirt and blood on her skin.

His shirtsleeves, which he had forgotten to roll up, became soaked from the sloshing water and Ginny's nightdress floated up around her. Harry cursed again. This would not work. He shifted her slightly and tugged the night dress off over her head, repeating _I'm sorry, Ginny_, over and over in his head. Using a washcloth, he began trying to clean the many cuts. Soon the water was disgusting, and a slightly evil smell rose from it. Harry hoped the orange potion had done its job as he felt for the drain and pulled the plug, then turned the taps back on. He stirred the water with his arm as he supported Ginny in place. In a minute, the water was cleaner again and he began to wash her matted, filthy hair.

The cuts were not deep but blood and dirt had made them look very nasty. Her ankle had an ugly red mark all around it as though she had been manacled. The worst were the long red welts that crisscrossed her body. They looked like whip marks, but Harry wondered if they hadn't been made by magic. Finally, Harry leaned Ginny over his arm so he could scrub her back clean. There were more red welts, and there was something else. Low in the center of her back was some sort of mark. At first, Harry thought it was another bruise but the mark was circular, perfectly circular, and looked like a reddish stain. It was hard to see it clearly through the water and it did not come off when he rubbed it with the cloth. Ginny started to shiver at that moment, and Harry forgot about the mark. He needed to follow Dumbledore's instructions he told himself again. He fought his anger back down. He wanted nothing more or less than to kill who ever had tortured her like this, but he had a responsibility to Ginny just now.

Harry took a deep breath. He'd need to lay her on something. He pulled several towels from the pile and spread them quickly on the floor. He lifted her, limp and naked from the tub, and laid her down as water streamed off her. Harry covered her with the remaining towels, patting her dry, and wiping off her face and hair. Ginny was now shaking violently. Lifting her quickly again, he rushed her back into the bedroom. The fire had now warmed the room so that it was overly hot.

As Harry settled her back on the bed, he pulled out his wand and cried "Accio" and a wardrobe door down the hall burst open allowing three quilts to zoom to Harry. He removed the damp towels covering Ginny and layered the quilts over her. Her skin was white as death, and she continued to shake.

What did he still need to do? Harry's stomach clenched in a tight knot and his brain was screaming for someone to come help him, but he took another deep breath and remembered that Dumbledore had left him phoenix tears. Harry picked up the third vial. He kept her covered as much as he could while he healed the angry welts and cuts that crisscrossed her body. The bruising and other marks disappeared as he touched them with the tears. Finally, he rolled her on to her side and applied the pearly liquid to the welts on her back. Everything vanished except the red circle. Harry could see that it had some sort of lines like writing or symbols in the center of it.

The mark troubled Harry and he wished Dumbledore would call. Nervously he pulled the small mirror from his pocket and set it on the bedside table. Perhaps he should call Dumbledore regardless of his instructions. Surely, this was an emergency. Ginny was moaning again, and shivering uncontrollably. Harry was desperate to warm her up and to calm her down. He looked around at the fire, which was blazing away, making it very warm in the room. Harry, himself was sweating. He could only think of one thing to do. He climbed on to the bed and pulled Ginny into his lap, wrapping one of the quilts tightly around her. He checked his watch and then placed three more drops of the purple potion into her mouth. Harry held her close and rocked her, telling her in a whisper that everything was going to be all right. He didn't know if she could hear him but she seemed to relax against him, and her breathing slowed. As she relaxed, his level of panic retreated to uneasiness. When Ginny settled into a deep sleep in his arms, Harry looked into her pale face. He ran his fingers gently through her hair, straightening it and pulling it off her forehead, and then he pulled an extra quilt over her so he could cover a bare leg.

_Light_, he thought, the light is too bright in the room. He swept his hand around and extinguished several of the candles, leaving only the one on the bedside table. Where was Dumbledore? Where was help? Harry knew he was no healer. Out of the confused and worried jumble of his thoughts, he heard his name spoken very clearly. "Harry Potter," it said. It took a split second for Harry to realize where the sound had come from. He reached over Ginny to the table and retrieved the mirror.

Professor Dumbledore's face, fierce and anxious appeared. "Harry, I don't have much time. How is Ginny?"

"Umm…I don't know. I did as you said. I gave her the potion twice now. The phoenix tears cleared everything but some sort of mark. It's on her back. What else should I do?"

"Describe this mark, Harry," said Dumbledore apprehensively.

"It's round and sort of red. It has some kind of symbol or writing inside the circle, but I don't know what it means."

The headmaster looked grim. "That may explain much," he said to himself. "Damn them!" Dumbledore paused, "Harry, keep her calm and quiet. I will be there straightway." The mirror surface clouded and Harry was looking at his own worried face. Dumbledore was on his way, and would be able to tell Harry if she was all right. Harry took a deep steadying breath. Then he realized something. He couldn't just leave her naked like this. It wasn't right. Harry laid Ginny carefully down on the bed and went to his bureau. He damned his Aunt Petunia again, as he rifled through his clothes and finally pulled out a clean pair of pajamas. Harry returned to the edge of the bed and hesitated. In the back of his head, a voice was telling him that he didn't ever want to be a healer. Pulling the quilt down, he slipped Ginny's arms into the top, and then buttoned it up. He slid the bottoms up her legs and cinched up the drawstring around her waist. Satisfied, he covered her again, and pulled up a chair next to the bed. He sat down and looked at his watch, realizing he had just checked it a minute ago. As he watched Ginny's face, he became aware that he was drumming his fingers on the bed, so he crossed his arms across his chest and tried to remain calm.

It now dawned on him that the reason Fred and George had been upset for the past two days was that they knew Ginny had been kidnapped. They had been instructed not to tell him. Had they realized he would have gone looking for her? He was glad she had been rescued but didn't understand why Dumbledore had brought her here. Why hadn't he taken her to Madam Pomfrey? She deserved a better fate than to be left under his clumsy care.

His ruminations were disturbed by the sound of the front door opening which jerked Harry to attention. He jumped up instinctively, grabbed his wand and moved to the bedroom door, ready to curse any intruder. It was Dumbledore, and Harry lowered his wand as the headmaster ascended the stairs, robes billowing behind him.

"Harry, how is she?" he asked, as he stepped into the room, and approached the bed.

"I'm not sure sir," said Harry, tightly. He had done everything as Dumbledore had directed but he didn't know how to assess her condition.

Dumbledore bent down and peered into her ashen face over his half-moon spectacles. He remained motionless for a moment then backed away. "Harry, I'll need to examine the mark your aunt found. Do you want to go and get her for me?"

"There's no reason to," said Harry resentfully. "Aunt Petunia refused to help me. She said she wouldn't touch Ginny if she were poisoned. There wasn't anyone else here to help and you told me what had to be done," he said, raising his face to look Dumbledore in the eye, "So, I did the best I could."

Dumbledore considered him for a moment. "Harry, it's a gift to be cool in a crisis and to react for the positive good. It is one of your best traits, I think."

"I wasn't very cool, sir," said Harry cynically.

Dumbledore ignored this remark and looked back at Ginny, "Please, show me the mark."

Harry pulled the covers down and carefully rolled Ginny's unconscious form on to her side, facing away from them. At least she seemed calm again. He pulled up the back of the pajama top but the mark was actually lower. Harry reached over Ginny, and loosened the drawstring then slid the bottoms down enough in back to display the red circle. Dumbledore was watching him, and he wished heartily that he were fighting death eaters, as it had to be easier than this. When the mark was revealed, Dumbledore stepped forward. He did not touch it but looked at it closely and then straightened, muttering to himself, "I am needed in too many places tonight."

"Sir?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore seemed to have made up his mind to something, "Harry… you will have to do this. There is no other way." Dumbledore sighed heavily, "This is the mark of a powerful, dark, and very old curse. It is the Mark of Domination. Someone is trying to control Ginny. I wish I had known sooner, but that was not possible. You must perform the counter curse. It cannot simply be done one time to remove the effects of the spell. You must perform the counter curse every hour for the next twelve hours. If this cycle is broken, we would have to begin over again, and it is important that we remove the influence of the curse from her as soon as possible. Once you begin, Harry, no other wizard can continue for you. You will be, in essence, taking on the curse yourself, a bit at a time. Since you were not the one cursed, you will not suffer the consequences of it. However, it can be very draining." Dumbledore looked hard at Harry. "Are you prepared to fight Ginny's curse?"

"Of, course," said Harry quickly, "Just tell me…"

Dumbledore did not wait for him to finish, "Take your wand, touch the center of the circle on her back and say _Non Stigma Servitium_," Harry listened carefully, repeating the incantation for the counter curse. "Then you must place your palm tightly over the mark. You will feel a sensation running up your arm. Do not pull your hand away until it stops." Harry leaned over the bed with his wand out, but Dumbledore grabbed his wrist to stop him, "She may need to be held down Harry, she will probably scream and she will fight you. This is a strong curse."

"She's really weak, sir," said Harry edgily, "I don't think she has much fight in her just now."

Dumbledore looked at him as though in sympathy, "Very well, Harry, proceed."

For the hundredth time that night, he murmured, "I'm sorry Ginny." Then he recited the incantation with his wand tip touching the mark, and placed his other hand against it. An odd feeling writhed and twisted up his arm. It felt as though ice-cold tendrils were snaking through his muscles and choking off his veins. It produced a dull ache. The feeling lasted a few moments and then stopped. As Harry suspected, Ginny was too weak to fight very hard. She gasped and tried to cry out but only a raspy moan came forth. When the strange sensation stopped, Harry took his arm away, turning it to inspect it.

"That's very good Harry. You must do the same thing each hour for the next twelve. You can not miss an hour if we are to lift her curse completely."

Harry nodded.

"I will try to call you using the mirror in an hour. Do not call me or any of the other Order members, as it is still too dangerous. I will explain everything when I return." Dumbledore moved to the door. "Oh, and Harry, do not let Ginny out of your sight. She can be controlled while under this curse as Percy was."

Harry looked up suddenly, "What do you mean, like Percy was?"

"Not now… when I return…just do not let her out of your sight." Dumbledore turned and hurried down the stairs and out the door, leaving Harry with more questions than answers.

Harry did not leave Ginny's side for the rest of the night. He tried to think what he would do if Ginny went mad as Percy had done. He just hoped that Dumbledore would return to tell him she was all right. He tried to block out the image that kept creeping into his head of what had happened to her; what had been done to her. Each hour, Harry performed the incantation, taking the curse away, a bit at a time. Ginny fought him each time, but as the night went on, it was less and less. Each hour he administered the purple potion.

The shocking thing was the way she would suddenly sit up, screaming. Sometimes her eyes would open and she would stare around wildly. She never seemed to know where she was or who he was. Harry held her hand, and sometimes rubbed her back to calm her down.

In the early hours of the morning, well before sunrise, Ginny sat up in bed with wild eyes, she was screaming, "I won't tell you…Noooooo! I won't….you can't make me…"

"Ginny," he said quietly, "it's all right, it's all right now." Harry stood up and tried to get her to lie back down. Then he sank back into his chair. After a few minutes, Harry touched her hand. It was abnormally warm. He felt her forehead and realized it felt very hot, but she was beginning to shake again and her skin felt clammy. _Bloody Hell_, thought Harry, _what do I do for this?_ He stood and paced toward the door and back again trying to think what to do. Then he summoned more blankets, and piled them on. He realized she might not have had water for a while; her lips looked dry. He waved his wand summoning a pitcher of water and a glass. He tried to tip a small amount of water into her mouth, she swallowed a bit of it, and then she began to mumble again. Harry felt her forehead again. She was really hot now. He got a washcloth and wet it with cool water, then placed it on her forehead. He looked over at the mirror and nearly picked it up. Instead, he sunk back into his chair and nervously watched his patient.

Dumbledore did not call as the slow hours marched by, until as the sky began to lighten to a pink haze, he came through the front door once again, looking tired and rumpled. Mac, Fred and George followed him into the cottage. Harry came down the stairs when he heard them all enter. Dumbledore looked up at him, "How is she?" he asked without any other greeting.

"Better, I think…I don't know," Harry admitted. Dumbledore climbed the stairs followed by the others. He surveyed Ginny for a moment, taking Harry's chair and moving close to the bed. He removed the cold cloth from her forehead, and handed it to Harry with a small encouraging smile, before placing a hand there. He sat like this for a long moment and then turned to them, looking at Harry and then past him to Mac, Fred and George. "Dobby has been helping the Order this night and is not here to make breakfast. I would dearly love some hot tea and perhaps some toast. Could you three see what you could do?" he asked looking at Mac and the twins.

"How is she, Dumbledore," asked Fred seriously.

"I will know more in a few minutes and then I will give you a full report," said Dumbledore, with a tired edge to his voice. "It appears that Harry has done a fine job minding her."

Fred and George smiled at Harry appreciatively while Mac clapped him on the back. Then Mac steered the twins down the stairs toward the kitchen.

"I would see the mark, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly.

Harry pulled back the covers and rolled Ginny carefully on to her side for about the eighth time that long night. He slid the pajamas out of the way once more, and showed Dumbledore the mark, which was now very dull and faded.

Dumbledore peered at the spot. "You have done well Harry. I'm sorry that you had to manage this all on your own. I am sorry that I could not send you other help, such as a qualified healer or even her mother." Harry's mouth opened to say something, but Dumbledore went on. "Harry, you did a remarkable job. You handled an emergency competently and efficiently. I'm sure that Ms. Weasley will be grateful for everything you have done for her tonight."

"I'd rather some one could have been here who knew what to do. What if she had gotten sicker…or...I don't know…," said Harry testily.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "I'm sure you understand Harry that there were few options tonight. Voldemort is organizing his war machine. We were lucky to find Ginny and to flush out a death eater stronghold. It will set them back."

Dumbledore looked at Harry patiently, "As far as Ginny goes, you did very well, finding the mark before who ever placed it there could try to control her. She must be watched very closely and may not come around for the next few days, but I believe she will recover.

Harry sighed, "It was Lucius Malfoy."

"What do you mean, Harry," asked Dumbledore.

"I had one of my visions two nights ago. I saw Lucius Malfoy torturing someone. I couldn't see who it was, but now I know. It was Ginny. If I had said something to you…or to someone…"

Dumbledore interrupted him. "Harry," he said sternly, "I will not have you blame yourself for every injury; every evil action by Voldemort. You cannot control what he does. You cannot blame yourself for the fact that he still lives, because frankly, you could not succeed in killing him yet, as far as I know. You need time to prepare. Focus on that. Do not wallow in self-pity because another innocent was hurt."

Harry turned to the window, wishing somehow that this were all a bad dream.

When the tea was ready, Dumbledore gathered MacNessa, the twins and Harry all in Harry's room and explained the situation to them. He told Harry, who did not know the story, how Ginny had been taken from The Burrow and how Mrs. Weasley had been hit by a stunner to the head as she fought their attackers. She was still in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, very confused, but recovering. The Order had put all its members on alert and had tracked Ginny down to a warehouse in Knockturn Alley. The Ministry aurors were called out and the battle began.

Harry was still angry that they had not told him about Ginny being taken and Mrs. Weasley being stunned. "If you had told me, I might have known the meaning of the vision, not just thought it was the fire whiskey," he complained.

"And then you'd have jumped on your broom and gone off looking for her, mate," said George.

"We couldn't let you, Harry," said Fred. "Anyway, we didn't even know where to look."

Dumbledore continued his story, telling Harry about the battle with the death-eaters. They had dementors with them and the spell damage done to Knockturn Alley was tremendous. The battle had raged for several hours. All the Ministry aurors and hit wizards had come in to help, along with members of the Order. Many wounded individuals had been sent St. Mungo's, but Dumbledore had sent as many as possible to Madam Pomfrey where they would be safe. The Order had quietly organized twenty-four hour vigils at the bedsides of those sent to St. Mungo's. They knew what the Ministry did not; that St. Mungo's was a death-eater strong hold too. They would need as many healthy aurors in the coming months as the Ministry had and could not risk any _accidents_ in the middle of the night. Dumbledore told them he had chosen not to tell the Ministry about St. Mungo's because it was difficult to know whose side Bagman and his administration were on. Knockturn Alley was one thing, but St.Mungo's was something all together different.

Dumbledore explained he had managed to get Ginny out without anyone seeing, owing to the general confusion, and the help of Dobby and several of his house elf recruits who used their considerable magic to cover the rescue. He was immediately suspicious from her condition that a curse, other than the Cruciatus curse had been leveled against her. The Mark of Domination had not been seen in over eighty years according to Dumbledore. He now believed that Percy had been marked in the same way, and that the mark was what had caused him the attack Ron last winter.

"But," asked Harry who well remembered the attack by Percy in the middle of the night, "wouldn't Madam Pomfrey have found it?"

"It could have been concealed, under his hair, as an example," said Dumbledore.

"So Percy was still being controlled by someone while he was in Hogwarts?" asked Fred.

"I believe so," said Dumbledore. "He nearly left the grounds one night and then got into Gryffindor tower on his own. I could not understand how he was able to do so, given his condition and unfortunately, I attributed it to madness. I never suspected this particular curse."

"In any event," said Dumbledore in a tired voice, "we must make the best of the situation. Ginny cannot leave here, and the Weasley's must pretend that she is still missing, for the time being. It will confuse Voldemort's forces for a while and it will be safer that way."

Mac volunteered to take guard duty to give the twins time for a nap. Dumbledore left, saying he would return later in the day. Soon the house was silent again.

Harry refused to leave Ginny's side. Fred or George brought him plates of food that he barely touched. Harry moved like a zombie from hour to hour until the twelve hours of counter-curses were over. After the final time, the circle was completely gone. Still Ginny did not come out of her semi-conscious state. The mark had completely disappeared, but Dumbledore told Harry that they needed to check it for the next few days to make sure it did not come back. Ginny slept most of the time and still was not coherent, but Dumbledore seemed to feel that she would soon wake, recovered.

On the second night, Ginny sat up screaming with her eyes full of fear. Harry had been sleeping on a camp cot at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a blanket, and he leapt up, disoriented. Ginny was unable to breath, and was looking around in terror. Harry tried to calm her but she seemed to be locked in a terrible nightmare. He sat on the edge of the bed and held her, talking to her until she calmed down somewhat. She quieted just as Fred and George burst in.

Harry put a finger to his lips and they stood tensely for a moment as she finally relaxed back into a restless sleep.

"Do you need us to take a shift, Harry?" asked Fred, "because we will, you know."

"I'm fine," he said, "really I'm ok."

After the twins left the room, Harry was asleep in minutes, sitting with his back against the headboard, with Ginny's head in his lap.

On the morning of the third day, Ginny opened her eyes and for the first time seemed lucid. She blinked in the light filling the sunny room and tried to speak. Her voice was hoarse and Harry helped her drink a bit of water. "Where am I?" she asked dully, holding her head.

"Godric's Hollow," Harry said. Ginny seemed to be processing this information. She put her hand over her eyes and Harry quickly waved his wand, closing the curtains.

"How did I get away?" she asked. "Lucius Malfoy…he..." Ginny licked her dry lips and Harry helped her drink some more water.

"Dumbledore brought you here. The Order found you in an old warehouse building in Knockturn Alley. There was a huge battle," Harry explained slowly.

"I didn't tell him Harry," she breathed. "I mean I don't think I told him."

"Told him what?" asked Harry softly, smoothing the hair off her face.

"The prophecy…the prophecy… He wanted it, Voldemort," she was becoming agitated. Harry tried to quiet her, telling her to relax and not strain herself, but Ginny was determined to tell him this. "Malfoy…Lucius Malfoy was supposed to get it, but not kill me. Voldemort wanted me sent back alive to tell you all that he had the prophecy too. But I didn't tell…at least I don't think I told them."

"I don't care about the damned prophecy. You should have told and not let them do this to you," said Harry, gritting his teeth.

She smiled weakly, "And be less brave than you have been? No…no…" She sunk back on her pillow and she drifted back into sleep.

Later she woke again and this time wanted to sit up and to go to the loo. Harry helped her slide her legs to the floor, and try to stand. She could barely support her weight, so he helped her down the hall and waited outside the door until she had finished. "Harry," he heard her gasp weakly after a few minutes. Harry opened the door cautiously, and saw her sliding down the wall to the floor. He picked her up and carried her back to bed. She smiled up at him and held on to his wrist. "Thank you," she said faintly.

That evening, she had revived a bit more, and was able to sit propped up in bed. Fred and George came and talked to her, telling her little jokes and cutting up, but keeping the subject of the attack untouched. Ginny smiled weakly at them and soon drifted back to sleep.

Dumbledore came to question her after dark. She was still tired and groggy, making Harry reluctant to let her be interrogated. He even asked Dumbledore if it could wait for a day or two. He was taking his role as healer seriously and his role as Ginny's protector even more seriously. Dumbledore told him that it was important hear her story as soon as possible.

Dumbledore sat heavily in the chair near her bed. Ginny was again awake. "Ginny, I am sorry to make you re-live the nightmare of your captivity, but I must know a few things. Can you help me?" asked Dumbledore quietly.

Ginny nodded to him. "Tell me first, what you can remember about being taken."

Ginny told how she had been awakened in the night by a noise, and saw black shapes were standing around her bed. At first, she thought it a dream, then there was a single jet of red light and before she could react, everything went black again. She knew nothing until she woke on the rough stone floor. Her leg was manacled to a ring set in the floor with a heavy chain. She was cold and there were harsh laughing voices at the edge of the room.

Then Lucius Malfoy had come in. He removed his mask and sent the others out. He stood with his wand out and just looked at her. Ginny did not speak to him. Then there was a rustle and murmurs from outside and Voldemort himself had entered. She described his cold red eyes and flat face, like a snake's.

Voldemort and Malfoy talked, as though she wasn't there. Voldemort wanted information about the prophecy and then to send her back to Dumbledore to tell him that she had been forced to give it. Malfoy was not to kill her. Malfoy said there were ways to loosen her tongue and he'd enjoy the challenge. Then Voldemort approached her.

"Girl, tell me the prophecy that binds the Potter boy and me and I will let you go unscathed,"Ginny reported. She had refused him. Harry shivered as he squeezed her hand.

Once Voldemort had left the room, Lucius had tried to make a deal with her. He told her that perhaps they could reach an understanding and avoid a lot of pain. As she had refused him, the pain had come quickly. She couldn't remember how many times that day he had hit her with the Cruciatus curse. Then after a time, he tried the Imperious curse, but she was able to resist it somehow.

He hit her with other curses in the dark filthy room, where she rolled in agony on the cold stone floor. Her necklace was torn from her neck by one of the death eaters and tossed into a corner. She retrieved it when they weren't watching, and held onto it. Finally, in apparent frustration, Malfoy had made Wormtail hold her down and he touched her back with his wand, leveling a curse at her that she did not recognize. Her head immediately went foggy and she lapsed into a dream like state. Whispers filled her head, insistent and repetitive. She wanted to make them stop but they went on and on. She couldn't move or talk. Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her into a sitting position, she thought they spoke to her but she couldn't hear anything but the voices in her head. How long she was like this she didn't know. She thought she had gone mad and then she was here, in this house.

Dumbledore thanked her as she yawned and slipped down on to her pillows, closing her eyes. Harry tucked the blankets around her. Out in the hallway Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, she must be watched closely over the next few days. There may be some residual effect from the curse that marked her. She must not be seen in public, or exposed to the possibility of being captured again. The proper thing to do would be to put Ginny in your aunt's room, but your aunt stubbornly refused and I want Petunia here at least until your birthday."

"She can keep my room, sir," said Harry, quickly. "I can kip on the sofa in the parlor once it's safe to leave her alone."

Dumbledore rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "War makes for strange situations, indeed," he sighed. "On another note, we cannot know if Ginny gave the prophecy or not. She will not be able to remember. We will have to go under the assumption that Voldemort knows it."

"I wish she would have told them straightaway and been allowed to go free," said Harry bitterly.

"You ought to know by now that even if she had, they would still have tortured her. It is what they do. They would not be able to resist it."

"If I ever see Lucius Malfoy again, I'll kill him," said Harry.

Dumbledore sighed. "Ginny's torture will be all in vain if you are killed in a duel with Lucius Malfoy. I must ask that you do not go looking for him. I want your solemn promise."

Harry did not know if he could make such a promise. He did not even _want_ to make such a promise. Dumbledore seemed to know what he was thinking. "Harry, although I know you are very angry, the most important thing is keeping you safe until you have to face Voldemort. I'm sure Ms. Weasley would tell you the same thing.

Harry looked angrily at Dumbledore, but said he would not go looking for Malfoy. In the back of his mind he decided he would make Lucius Malfoy pay. He would pay for doing this to her.

Fred came in shortly after Dumbledore left. "Harry, you're doing a great job. We really appreciate it. I'm seeing dad tonight. He's nearly out of his mind, what with worrying over mum and Ginny. He's blaming himself for being on duty when they were attacked."

"Fred…does Ron know...because I haven't gotten a letter from him lately," asked Harry.

"Actually," began Fred, "He doesn't know." Fred looked around and lowered his voice. "He and Hermione are under guard. They don't know they are being followed. Tonks is doing it. She's using disguises."

"Shouldn't he know what's happened?' asked Harry irritably.

"Listen Harry," said Fred, "We want him and Hermione as far from Britain as possible. It's safer that way. If Voldemort thought Ginny could give him the prophecy, he must think Hermione or Ron could do so too. It's just safer this way. So don't you go telling him what's happened."

"By the way, Harry," said Fred, "you're doing a brilliant job with Ginny. I'm hopeless with sick people. And with your aunt helping out that first night and all, George and I have decided to let her alone as you asked." Fred patted Harry's arm and left the room.

Harry nodded to no one. Fred was already down at the door. Fred, George and Mac still believed that Petunia Dursley had nursed Ginny that first night. Harry sighed. Let them think it if they liked, he would not say anything. Aunt Petunia would be gone from his life soon and good riddance. That was the best plan.

The next day Ginny awoke much improved. She began to notice her surroundings. "So, this is your house," she asked.

"Yes," Harry said smiling.

"What am I wearing," she asked looking at the sleeve covering her arm.

"Pajamas," said Harry busying himself straightening the table, "my pajamas."

"Nice color," she said.

Ginny claimed to be starving, and it was no wonder. She hadn't eaten in five days by Harry's reckoning, having only water and some juice. Ginny ate some lunch brought in by a beaming Dobby, who magiced anything she asked for including strawberry ice cream.

When Ginny decided she wanted to get out of bed, she realized that she had none of her clothes here. Harry rummaged through his bureau drawers and found a pair of shorts and a shirt for her to put on. He also passed her a belt as the shorts were bound to be too large for her. While Harry waited in the hall, Ginny donned the shirt and shorts that hung down to her knees. She had to roll the sleeves of his shirt up several times. When she had dressed, she wanted to come downstairs, and see the rest of the house. "I'm a bit dizzy," she said as she looked down the staircase. Harry helped her down to the parlor and left her there with George.

Mac had insisted they get back to dueling practice now that Ginny was out of danger, so Harry went to the front garden where Mac and Fred were waiting for him. The practice did him good. He felt sore and bruised when they had finished, but the exercise was welcome after so many days and nights sitting tensely next to Ginny's bed or sleeping rolled in a blanket on a camp cot.

As he practiced, he saw George walking Ginny outside into the flower garden. Some sun would do her good he thought, and he was nearly disarmed by Fred as his concentration wavered. Mac threw him a severe look and he made himself focus on the duel.

Dumbledore was perched on a bench outside the house and beckoned to Harry just as Mac and Harry decided to quit for the day. "We will resume our practice tomorrow, Harry," he said. "And, tomorrow, I hope you can keep your mind on the duel."

"Yes sir," Harry said. He took up a towel and blotted the sweat off his face. Dumbledore beckoned to him and he crossed to the bench.

"I had a brief talk with Ginny," Dumbledore began. "She has had a very rough time of it. I explained about the mark and my suspicions about Percy. She knows she must stay here and cannot go home at this time." Dumbledore rose and took a step toward the gate, then turned back to Harry. "She is asking questions about her condition when she arrived here. She remembered having cuts and so forth, which are now healed. I told her that you could fill in the blanks." Dumbledore's eyes flicked up toward the side garden, just visible over the rose bushes. "I recommend the truth." He turned and strode to the gate.

Harry stood on the pathway thinking. He had done what had to be done to save her life that night. War made for strange situations. In normal times, he guessed he and Ginny would have dated like a normal couple. Their biggest worry would have been about escaping Filch when they were out of bounds too late. Here they were, trying to escape death eaters who wanted them dead, or worse, and they had to count themselves lucky if they escaped in one piece.

Harry walked out into the garden. Ginny was lying in the hammock Fred had hung between two great shade trees. George had brought a blanket out for her, but the air was still warm from the afternoon sun. She motioned him over. "Hi Harry, how was your lesson?" she said as he approached. Her voice was edged with something like weariness.

Harry smiled at her then walked around behind the tree and clambered into the hammock being as careful as he could not to flip it over. He settled slowly down next to her, his chest against her back. Ginny said nothing, and Harry laid his arm over her waist.

The evening was coming on. As the sky turned dusky blue, fireflies appeared, hovering and flitting over the rose bushes. Fred came out of the cottage and took up his guard position across the garden in the wooden lawn chair. He aimed his wand at the fire and flames sprang to life, lifting sparks into the evening air.

"Harry, I had a talk with George today," Ginny began, not looking at him. "I asked him to tell me about the night Dumbledore brought me here. I don't remember much of anything past when Malfoy cursed me. It's all disjointed and jumbled after that. George told me how Dumbledore brought me in wrapped in an old dirty blanket, and how I was all cut up and bruised. He said Fred and he went with Dumbledore, and Mac was sent out on guard duty. He told me how your Aunt Petunia was the one who got me cleaned up and tended me that night. I thought that was quite kind of your aunt so I went to talk to her…to thank her."

Harry winced. He knew what was coming. "She told me to hold my thanks. That when she saw me being brought in that she did not intend to touch anyone so vile and filthy. She said I was poisoned to boot. She said she went to her room and locked the door."

Without looking at him she continued, "Fred, George and Mac all believe your aunt took care of me that night but it wasn't her. That means it must have been you."

Harry spoke quietly into the night, explaining Dumbledore's orders, and how Aunt Petunia refused to help him. He told her what he had done, glossing over some of the details. He told how he had found the mark and how Dumbledore had helped him wage the twelve-hour fight to break the curse.

"Fred says I was a mess, and he thought I might die."

"You were in a bad way."

"I remember only bits," said Ginny quietly.

"Look Ginny, I'm sorry there wasn't anyone else to take care of you that night, but Dumbledore said we couldn't bring in anyone else or take you anywhere else. So I just did what he told me had to be done." His voice tailed off, at a loss as to what to say to her.

She rolled over and faced him. She was shivering slightly. Harry pulled the blanket from under the hammock pillow and spread it over her. He looked across at Fred who was sitting near the front gate, reading by the light of his wand. "Harry, thanks for what you did. The curse could have been really bad according to Dumbledore, and you removed it. I guess I should be sort of embarrassed about ...everything you had to do, but…I'm just grateful for what you did for me."

Harry looked at her doubtfully, "Ginny, I was scared, really. I mean I didn't know what I was doing. At one point I wrapped a quilt around you and I just sat there holding you. I was so afraid you might die."

The night air was full of the sounds of chirping crickets. The fire was burning lower now and light filtered out through the cottage windows. Harry and Ginny continued to sway slowly in the old hammock. Ginny smiled at him and he moved his face down to hers. Their lips touched, and Harry pulled her close against him.

"When I was screaming because of the mark, George said you were able to calm me down. What did you do?" Ginny asked in a whisper.

Harry reached under the back of her shirt. He put his hand against her back, now so familiar to him. He began to rub her back slowly. "This seemed to help." He could feel her body relax against him.

"I can see how it would," she said.


	4. Coming and Going

**Chapter Three –Coming and Going**

In Harry's opinion, Godric's Hollow had turned into an especially appealing place now that Ginny was here. He didn't like the reason she had been brought here but he was happy she was close by. Dumbledore had dictated that she had to stay for the time being as the Order wanted her whereabouts kept quiet. There was too much risk that Voldemort would try to take her again, or anyone close to Harry who might have known the prophecy. Dumbledore assured Harry that Ron and Hermione were under guard, unbeknownst to them, in France. He did not seem too concerned that they were likely to be kidnapped. He reasoned that Voldemort had probably gotten the prophecy from Ginny, even though she maintained she hadn't told it, so the risk to Ron and Hermione was now minimal. With the death eaters focused on Britain, Dumbledore did not think it likely they would pursue an attack so far from home base.

The most difficult thing was avoiding any mention of the events of the past several days in the letters Harry sent to his friends. He found himself wasting a lot of parchment, trying to keep his comments general and not divulge any information that could risk someone's safety if a post owl were waylaid.

On the day following Ginny's recovery, Harry gave her a real tour of the house and grounds. Even though it was a short tour, she seemed to enjoy it all the same. Harry was keen to show her Sirius's old motorbike, which was still stored in the little stone shed behind the house. After they had peered into all the rooms in the cottage, except for Aunt Petunia's, and strolled past all the flowerbeds and trees, Harry and Ginny were standing in front of the weathered wood door to the shed. "You're not going to believe this," Harry was saying as he wrenched the old door open. It creaked complainingly on its hinges as Harry swung it fully open. Inside the small building the light was dim. A dusty stream of sunlight cut through the space diagonally and glinted off the chrome of the motorbike.

Ginny stepped inside followed by Harry. The room was cool and dry. "Isn't it fantastic?" said Harry, stroking the leather seat. "I can't wait till I can just get on it and fly it where ever I please." In his head, he pictured himself, perhaps dressed in very cool leather pants and jacket, with Ginny tight behind him on the seat of the bike, flying through a starry night sky.

Ginny admired the bike and then began to look around the tiny shed, whilst Harry polished a smudge on the handlebars with the tail of his shirt.

"What's this?" she asked, pulling him back from his daydream.

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"This old trunk," she replied, "what's in it?"

Harry came around to where she was standing and looked where she was pointing. In the corner, under an old potting bench and nearly out of sight, was a small dusty leather trunk. It had old, worn straps and buckles holding it shut. Harry was interested, and got to the floor, pulling the trunk out into the room. "I wonder what..." he began undoing the buckles and raising the lid. Inside were a stack of what looked like old textbooks and some loose papers. The book on the top made Harry stop. The cover was dusty, but the worn gold letters still showed through. _LILY EVANS_, was spelled across the cover.

Harry sat cross-legged in front of the trunk, picked up the book and turned it over in his hand then opened the cover. Inside, on the first page, and written in a fine flowing hand he read, _Arcane Forms of Magic - Notes_.

The notebook was nearly full of the same fine handwriting. Sometimes the ink color changed, sometimes the notes had dates, sometimes there were names of books referenced, or quotations with references. Harry set the book aside and pulled out the rest of the trunk's contents. The books looked deadly dull for the most part; the kind of thing Hermione would enjoy, he thought, fanning the pages of a particularly large volume. The papers seemed to be more notes, but they were not organized. The entire thing looked like a random compilation of information with no real point. Perhaps it was his mother's old school things. Harry sighed.

"Do you think these were all your mums' things?" asked Ginny as she flipped through the first notebook.

"Could be," said Harry. He was surprised at how excited he had felt, suddenly finding something that belonged to his mother, and how let down he now felt that it was no more than some random notes and old moldy books. Still, he thought it might be interesting to sift through it all sometime. He decided he would carry it back to the cottage and put it away. He stuffed everything back into the trunk and as he laid the last piece of parchment inside, Ginny knelt down next to him and set the notebook back on top.

Harry closed the trunk. He turned smiling to Ginny and then on impulse, he put his arm around her and kissed her. She leaned into him and kissed him back. Just then a small grey rat scurried across the floor next to them, making Ginny jump to her feet with a gasp. Harry laughed as he got up and hoisted the trunk, "Saved by a rat," he said to her.

Ginny scrambled back out into the sunshine, looking shaken. Her face had gone ashen and Harry noticed tears forming in her eyes as he closed the door behind them. "Ginny, what's the matter?" asked Harry, now concerned.

Ginny hastily wiped her eyes. "It's nothing...silly really."

"Come on now, what is it?" he persisted.

She looked at him taking a shaky breath. "Wormtail. When I was in that place, in Knockturn Alley, he would sometimes turn into a rat and I'd wake up with him crawling over me or sitting next to me. It was sort of frightening is all." She shivered slightly, then forced a smile and set off towards the cottage. Harry stared after her. The thought of what they had put her through made him sick. She was trying to throw it off, but the nightmare was still too fresh. The difficult thing to take was that it was all do to him, and that damn prophecy.

A few minutes later, the trunk was stowed under a writing desk in the parlor and they were eating lunch in the dining room with Mac and George. George was going to be Harry's dueling partner today. He had gotten a good night's sleep and was egging Harry on in a cocky and hilarious way. Even Ginny got a good laugh. It felt good to laugh again after so many days of tension and worry.

After lunch, Mac and George headed for the front garden with Harry for dueling practice, while Ginny had a nap. Harry had gotten very fast, and neither of the twins were now able to keep up with him for very long. Harry could even tell which twin he was fighting by little differences in the way they moved during a duel.

Harry and George squared off and began to duel. Harry ducked, spun and rolled away as George shot hexes in his direction. He was stung a few times, but he kept moving as Mac had taught him, and kept his shields up. "Fight till you drop. Make every practice count. Pretend that every duel risks your life." Those were Mac's constant reminders.

After twenty minutes, Mac called for a break, as George tried to stop the nosebleed he'd got from Harry's Impedimenta spell. Mac ambled over to a stone bench by the azaleas. He beckoned to Harry to join him. Harry plunked down next to his teacher, breathless and sweating. "Well now boy," said Mac who was gazing out toward the beech trees, and not looking at Harry, "how do you think that went?"

Harry glanced over at Mac, shrugged and said, "I guess I could have moved a bit faster on that last spell."

"I see," said Mac, still not looking at Harry. A few moments passed in silence. Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that there was a problem. "Young Harry," said Mac, turning to him at last, "you are not putting a full effort into your practice time. I won't tolerate slacking off."

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at Mac as he continued. "You are holding back when you duel with the twins. You know you are quicker than they are, although they are deadly fast. You hold back when you know you could beat them."

In the back of his head, Harry knew this was true. He began to explain, "Maybe I could go at them harder, but I don't want to hurt anyone. I mean, they're my friends and it's really good of them to help out."

"Well, at least you are conscious of the fact that you are holding back. That's something," Mac said sternly. "I don't really fault you boy, but we must design a situation where you will feel able to fight as hard as you can if we are going to hone your very considerable skills." Mac considered for a moment. Then jumped up and strode into the house without a word.

Ten minutes later, Mac emerged with a broad grin on his face and his wand in his hand. George was walking behind him, grinning. "Back on the mat, young Harry," said Mac, gesturing to him. Harry climbed to his feet and joined them. "Let's get at it boys." Harry shook out his arms and turned to face George, but jumped back with a shock. He was facing Severus Snape.

The laugh that issued from Snape's mouth was that of George Weasley. Harry looked questioningly at Mac, but kept his wand raised. "It's a type of disguise charm," said Mac. "I thought if you were facing Snape, you might put in a full effort." To prolong the workout, Mac had also given George an extra shield of protection that Harry could hit with spells, but not penetrate easily.

At first, Harry found himself holding back, but soon he could imagine Snape was there and began throwing everything he had at George. Finally, with Snape/George down on the ground and panting hard, Mac called him off. "Now that was more like it, boy. I can see that my old friend Severus really makes you rise to the occasion."

"Ya," said Harry, pulling George to his feet, "him I'd like to hurt."

Harry was still charged with checking Ginny's mark several times each day. There was a definite difference in checking the mark location now that she was conscious. He was surprised how easy it had been when her life was in immediate danger and when she was limp as a rag doll, compared to now, when he had to ask her to lower her jeans for him to inspect the spot. Ginny asked him if they couldn't arrange to do it away from the others. She seemed rather self-conscious about the entire thing. Dumbledore had assured her that there was nothing she could have done to stop it, or fight it, but she remained a bit touchy on the subject.

Harry had seen no recurrence of the mark, but Dumbledore still seemed apprehensive. On the third night after Ginny had recovered enough to get out of bed, the headmaster arrived at the Hollow with an ancient book in his hands. Dumbledore called them all to the dining room where he placed the book on the table. "I had some difficulty locating this particular text," he said. "Remus discovered it after some searching." Harry, Ginny, Fred and George crowded around as Dumbledore turned the brittle, yellowed pages. Finally he reached a page that was entitled _Stigma Servitium, _which Harry recognized as part of the counter curse he had used on Ginny. The text was all in Latin but there were pictures showing a wizard with a wand, pointing at a person who was being restrained, then a depiction of the person kneeling to the wizard with a round mark upon his chest. At the bottom of the page, the mark was drawn as Harry remembered it.

Dumbledore was reading through the text and muttering to himself. Fred and George stood looking at the headmaster while Harry tried to decipher the inscrutable writing. Finally, Dumbledore straightened and faced them. "It is as I feared. Although I remembered the curse and its counter curse, I did not trust my memory concerning the details of the Stigma Servitium, or Mark of Domination. It appears that although the mark has disappeared, the wizard who invoked the curse can reactivate it. It takes a powerful wizard to over come the counter curse but it can be done. In the event that this happens, the counter curse must be tried again. Time and distance can lessen the potency of the curse, but only the death of the wizard who placed the curse will remove it forever." Dumbledore looked sadly at Ginny, "I'm very sorry this has happened to you. We WILL find a solution, I promise…"

Before anyone else could react, Harry turned to Dumbledore, "What do you mean….I thought the mark might just come back on its own, but you're saying Malfoy might bring it back? He could try to make her do…something?"

Dumbledore looked at him. "So it seems, Harry," he sighed. "This is a very ancient curse and as I told you, a very powerful one. When Percy was cursed, we assumed it to be the Imperious curse but nothing we tried seemed to break him free of it. We did not understand why, for even a weak willed wizard should be able to overcome even a very strong Imperious curse, given enough time."

"This spell," he said, glancing down at the book, "is altogether another matter. A person with a very strong will might fight it, but the caster can still get the victim back under his control. Lucius Malfoy is certainly a powerful enough wizard to reactivate the curse. If he is aware of this, and I am sure that he is, he will certainly try to control her again. We can not know when."

"We'll kill him, then," said Fred and George at once. "Then it'll be over," finished Fred.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not want you looking for Lucius Malfoy. He is highly dangerous and will probably not be alone. We do not want more marked victims to be dealing with. I need to study this situation. I will look for another way to remove the curse permanently. In the meantime Ginny, Harry will have to continue to check the site of the mark. Do you agree?"

Ginny stared unseeing at the book upon the table and shook her head yes. "Sir," she said her voice sounding far away, "perhaps you ought to lock me up…so I don't hurt anyone as Percy did."

Dumbledore sighed. "Percy's curse was never blocked as Harry has done to yours. I feel we will get some notice if Malfoy attempts to control you again."

The group was somber with each person lost in their own thoughts. Harry, for his part, was imagining what he'd do if he ever came face to face with Lucius Malfoy again.

In addition to everything else, poor Ginny had been reduced to sharing Harry's wardrobe until they could obtain some clothes for her. Since Dumbledore wanted to maintain total secrecy about Ginny's location, he refused to allow Fred and George to collect her clothes from the Burrow and bring them to Godric's Hollow. There was a fear that a bundle of clothes or trunk leaving The Burrow could tip off the death eaters and also cause the twins to become targets. Dumbledore said he would arrange for some appropriate attire for Ginny, but he seemed extremely busy and so after a few days, Harry took charge of the matter and slipped a leather pouch full of galleons into Fred's hand. "I know the Order doesn't want any hint of where Ginny is to leak out. Can you figure out how to buy her some clothes? She's not complaining, but she can't be happy wearing my old stuff," said Harry.

Fred slipped the pouch into his pocket. "I don't know why we didn't think of that Harry. Leave it to me. I'll get it handled with no one the wiser."

"Thanks," said Harry gratefully. Then he added, "I don't know her size or anything."

Fred returned hours later with a large and battered cardboard box under his arm. Harry and Ginny were sitting on a bench in the front garden as he strolled in. "Hi ya, Ginny, Harry," he said gaily, heading for the house. Just as he passed, he gave Harry a quick wink. Harry excused himself a minute later and headed for the house. He found Fred in the twins' room.

"What is it?" asked Harry as he entered.

"Got the stuff here," said Fred, pointing to the box now sitting on the bed.

"You mean the clothes for Ginny?" Harry asked. "No offense Fred, but I meant new clothes."

"You idiot," said Fred, "This is camouflage. Open it up, why don't you."

Sure enough, when Harry opened the cardboard box, he found several fancy shopping bags that read _Glad Rags Wizard Wear_ on the outside in shiny gold letters. The bags were filled with all sorts of clothing items. "But Fred, Glad Rags isn't in Diagon Alley, it's in Hogsmeade," said Harry.

"Actually, London, Paris and Hogsmeade... according to a very attractive shopkeeper. I thought it best not to be seen buying clothes for a teenage girl in Diagon Alley. Someone might become suspicious, so I used a disguise and I apparated to Hogsmeade. I let Bridget, the shop clerk, pick this all out for me," said Fred. Then he added with a wink, "We have a date next weekend."

Harry laughed, "Thanks Fred."

"Don't thank me, your supply of gold is seriously diminished," Fred laughed, as he dropped the pouch on to the bed.

Harry told him it was worth every galleon. Then he pulled the shopping out of the box and carried it all into the room that Ginny was using. He deposited the bags on the bed and then went back down to the garden without a word to her about it.

Later that night, Harry was sitting in the parlor, about to lose spectacularly in a game of wizard chess with George, when he heard a squeal of delight that carried through the entire house. Mac looked up from his book curiously and Fred and George exchanged smiles. Aunt Petunia poked her head out of her room, scowled and then ducked back inside like a tortoise retreating into its shell.

A moment later Ginny came flying down the stairs, with an armload of brightly colored clothes and threw her arms around her brothers. "It was Harry who did it, sis," said Fred quickly. "I just carried out the plan."

Ginny turned to Harry, an entirely different look on her face. "Oh, Harry," she began, haltingly, "I can't accept this...it's too much."

"Don't be silly," said Harry, blushing a bit, "You're going to hurt yourself tripping around here in jeans that are too long for you."

Ginny looked like she was going to cry. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." Then she bent and kissed him before turning to go back off to her room. Harry knew his face had turned red owing the fact that it felt hot. Fred and George were cat calling and Mac shook his head as he studied his book, but Harry could see the shade of a grin there.

George leaned over, "Going to run off after her and help her try on her new things?" he asked mockingly.

Fred cuffed George with a pillow. "That's your baby sister you're talking about."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. Harry was looking so love sick for a minute, I thought I'd just ask," replied George.

Harry busied himself with collecting up the remains of his banished pieces so he didn't have to look at any of them. Soon Ginny returned to the parlor dressed in a new blouse and some Ginny sized jeans. Everything seemed to fit quite well.

Later that evening they all played several rounds of exploding snap. The twins were brutal players, as was Ginny. Harry and Mac finally bowed out of the game and let the Weasley's fight for the win. In the end, Ginny beat her brothers, to loud groans and reminders that they had, after all, taught her how to play.

Mac had gone to bed, and Fred and George flipped a coin for guard duty. George got to go off for a sleep, while Fred took his turn out at the gate. Ginny came over to the sofa where Harry sat, and curled up next to him.

He put his arm around her. "Do you think we're really likely to be attacked here?" she asked.

"Dunno," said Harry, "Dumbledore is pretty firm about the guard situation, particularly at night."

"You must get so tired of it," she replied.

"Ya, it seems like I've been watched most of my life, but it hasn't stopped loads of things from happening anyway."

They sat silently for a time as the warm night breeze made the candles flicker.

"What do you want most, Harry?" Ginny asked quietly.

Harry turned toward her. He could see the chain of the necklace he had given her, and now repaired, laying against her skin. He knew exactly what he wanted, but he was afraid to tell her that. "Oh, I don't know…"

Ginny looked at him appraisingly. "So you won't tell me then?" She looked at him for a moment, "Well, if I tell you what I want, will you tell me what you want?"

Harry gave her a crooked smile and nodded his head. "Well then," said Ginny looking off across the room, "Tom Riddle possessed me and made me do his bidding, then Malfoy marked me and now he could control me if he pleased. My entire family is fighting Voldemort and the one who didn't fight him is dead. It would be foolish to think that we can all come through this unhurt. I have to believe that you'll win out over Voldemort, Harry. So, even though we'll all have to fight against him before the end, I want to come to a time when no one I love is in danger. That's what I'd like."

Harry swallowed, "That's all I want too. If I could just shut out the world and live here…I mean there are things I'd like to do, but what I'd really like is a place I could call home, without guards and without a load of spells protecting it." Harry paused, not looking at her, "And if you were here with me too…"

Ginny laid her head on his shoulder. "That would be nice," she said softly. "But…could Dobby stay too?" asked Ginny, "I really hate doing dishes." Harry laughed and held her tighter.

At the end of the week, on a particularly fine morning, Mac came into the cottage calling Harry's name. Harry jumped up from a chair in the parlor. "What?" he asked. Ginny looked up from her book.

"You'll want to come out by the gate, I think," said Mac with a smile. Harry and Ginny followed Mac out into the front garden and down the stone path to the gate. Once there, Mac looked out into the road then said, "In just a minute I think."

Harry looked quizzically at Ginny who shrugged back at him. Then there were three quick pops, and Dumbledore, Ron and Hermione apparated in the road. They looked around and then at Dumbledore, who handed them a small scrap of parchment to read. Harry grinned broadly as he waited for them to see his house materialize in front of them. Mac pulled open the gate for them and Dumbledore shunted them forward.

Hermione gasped delightedly and waved to Harry. Ron smiled and said, "Hello Harry, Hi Ginny."

They each had a suitcase in their hand. Once Hermione had crossed into the yard, she dropped her case and enfolded Harry and Ginny in a huge hug. "I'm so glad you're safe," she said, looking Ginny over. "We were only just told the whole story last night."

"Ya," said Ron, "Some death eaters tried to take us, but Tonks rescued us."

"What?" asked Harry incredulously.

Dumbledore broke in, "Even though this entire property is protected, still I would prefer that you kept this discussion for inside the house. I'm sure you all have a lot to catch up on. Harry, I'm afraid you will have to find more beds for your friends here, as Ron and Hermione will have to remain here until the end of the summer."

He continued, "Ron, Hermione, you may not send any owl post and you must remain within these garden walls, and house, as I explained. I must leave immediately, but I will return tonight." Harry couldn't have been happier.

Ron spoke up, "I can kip anywhere, mate. No matter what, it'll be better than worrying about being attacked in your sleep."

They made a noisy group as they entered the cottage. As Harry stopped to think a minute in the front hallway, Dobby came out from the kitchen and began asking in an animated manner what they would all like for dinner that evening. The commotion flushed Aunt Petunia out of her room. "Pipe down the lot of you," she shrilled over the top of them. "A person can't think with all that jabbering."

Everyone was looking at Aunt Petunia now. Ginny turned to Ron and Hermione, "Why don't we all go up to Harry's room," she suggested quietly. Ron and Hermione started up the stairs after her.

Harry said, "I'll be up in a minute."

He turned to face his aunt. "It's not up to you to tell my guests to be quiet," he said evenly. His eyes, however, were boring into his aunt. He'd had enough of her. Since the night of Ginny's arrival and her refusal to help him, he had done what he could to avoid looking at her or conversing with her. He knew that if he did, he was likely to blow-up. Dumbledore wanted her here until August so he had made a serious effort to avoid her for the past week or so. Then a click in his head made him aware of something he had overlooked. Today must be his birthday. Yes, it had to be July thirty-first today. He mentally counted out the days. Godric's Hollow had somehow masked the passing of the days, or made him unconcerned about them. Yes, today was his birthday. He looked at his aunt with renewed venom. "If you don't like it, then get out of my house," he said in a low menacing voice.

"I'd like nothing better," she spat. "When I leave here I don't ever want to see or hear from you again. And if that Dumbledore character harms my son, I'll...I'll," she went silent.

"You'll what?" yelled Harry. "You'll lock him in a cupboard under your stairs? You can get away with stuff like that when it's you against a little boy. You're right up to bullying a child aren't you? You'll leave an innocent girl to die just so that you're not inconvenienced. You'll treat people rudely that you don't even know, because you think you're better than they are. Just don't think for a minute that you can take on a grown wizard," Harry sucked in a breath. "You don't deserve the chance Dumbledore gave Dudley. You don't deserve to be called my mother's sister…" He had a lot more to say to her, but as he stood there, he felt decidedly empty. All he ever got from her was coldness and rejection. There was no point in going on with his tirade.

As this realization hit him something like acceptance replaced his anger. Harry suddenly felt sorry for her. She was no match for him or for any of the people in this house. She was just a woman, scared for the safety of her son. Certainly she'd had her chance to show him even a small amount of the love she displayed for Dudley, but she never had. Nothing could change that now. "Dumbledore will not remove the charm on Dudley. He'll be safe as far as that goes." Harry said with a sigh.

Aunt Petunia swept back into her room, slamming the door. Immediately the sound of drawers opening and slamming could be heard.

Harry turned and trotted out to the gate, where Mac was sitting on guard. "Can we send Aunt Petunia home? I've just had a row with her and she's packing."

Mac looked slyly at Harry. "About time young Potter," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I've know muggles of all kinds in my life, some good, some bad, some who are friends. That woman...well all I can say is it will be good riddance as far as I'm concerned." Mac looked out to the road. "I'll call the Knight Bus and send her packing then, and I hope Stan and Ernie give her one devil of a ride home." Harry smiled at him and then went back into the house.

A door slammed followed by the click of heels across the floor. The voice of Aunt Petunia shouted to no one in particular, "This is a mad house. I am leaving and I don't want to see or hear from you again!" Harry watched her from the window in the kitchen as she approached the gate. Mac opened it for her and took her bag for her as they stepped out into the road. In a matter of seconds, Harry glimpsed the edge of the purple Knight Bus as it wheeled into view and then disappeared. Mac came back inside after it had left. Harry had the feeling of a door closing on the whole of the muggle life he had known. The feeling was bittersweet.

Harry turned and nearly collided with Dobby who was standing behind him. "Harry Potter could put the young ladies in the bedroom of the aunt, sir. I is cleaning very quickly sir. They is having their own bathroom too, Harry Potter."

"Great idea Dobby," said Harry a bit tiredly. "Let's do that."

Harry climbed the stairs and tried to throw off the nagging feeling of loss at never having connected with his mother's sister. It was a strange feeling that had suddenly engulfed him. He set a smile on his face as he entered his room and his chattering friends.

"Harry," said Ginny tentatively as he entered the bedroom, "is everything all right?"

"I've chucked her out," he said despondently. "I guess I'm finally rid of the Dursley's."

"You should feel happy for that," said Ron. "Those people were horrid. You should hear my mum on the subject; only she never wanted to say anything around you. When she found out how you were being treated by them, she nearly laid an egg. This was right after we came to get you in the flying car. She and dad went to see Dumbledore and told him they wanted to take you in straight away. Of course, he wouldn't let them. Now we all know you had to stay with them."

Harry sighed. It was reassuring to know that he had a real family, even if they weren't related to him and it lifted his spirits. "So, tell me about the death eaters that attacked you. What happened?" Harry asked.

Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron started speaking first. "We snuck out of the house one night, you know, to have a bit of a walk on the beach by ourselves. We found a spot and we were a…sitting on a blanket in the dark." Harry saw Hermione color a bit, and he suppressed a grin. "Suddenly, we heard a popping sound. I looked up and there were two death eaters in black robes and those masks. I was grabbing for my wand when this old man came running toward us and tripped in the sand. But as he hit the ground, I saw he had a wand and he hit one of the death eaters square in the chest with a stunner. By then I had my wand and I was able to block the curse the second one sent at us. But he was fast, wasn't he Hermione?"

"Yes," she said, taking up the story. "I couldn't find my wand in the dark, but the old man had got to his knees and it was really Tonks. She sent a second stunner at the one standing, but she missed. He started to back away."

"I tried to get him too, but he ducked," said Ron, excitedly. "Then Tonks was running at him and they dueled back and forth. I got up and ran to help Tonks, but she took him down with a Blasting Curse, before I got there."

"Ron and Tonks tied them up," said Hermione, "and she left them on the beach while she took us back to the house."

"She had more Order members come to guard the house that night and in the morning we were to make up an excuse to leave with her. Tonks told us how Mum and Ginny had been attacked, but she wouldn't give us the details," Ron paused for a breath. "We told Hermione's parents that my mum had taken ill and that I had to go home and that Hermione wanted to come too. Then we apparated to Hogsmeade with Tonks this morning," said Ron.

"She took us to the Hogs Head and that old bar keeper, Dumbledore's brother, isn't he Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry nodded. "He took us downstairs to a secret room and Professor Dumbledore talked to us there, then he brought us here."

"Dumbledore told us more about the kidnapping, Ginny," began Ron, "He said mum is doing better, but he wouldn't say much about you, just that you were safe." Ron looked at Ginny. "Exactly what happened?"

Harry could tell that Ginny did not want to re-tell the story just now, even to her brother. Still, she looked her brother in the eye and told him about the death eaters surrounding her bed and waking up on the stone floor. She glossed over the details, but told them that Voldemort had been after the prophecy. Then she told about waking up here. She did not mention the mark.

Ron was angry, and was cursing Lucius Malfoy. Hermione looked completely stunned and began asking Ginny if she had been hurt at all. Harry thought how much more upset they would be once they heard the entire truth. He looked at Ginny who was assuring Hermione she was just fine. She gave Harry a warning look as if to say, _just leave it for now_. Harry did not know what to think. He admired her strength but worried that she was saving the feelings of others at a cost to herself.

The rest of the afternoon was taken up with moving Ginny's things into the room that Aunt Petunia had occupied and settling Hermione in there as well. Dobby magiced a second bed into Harry's room for Ron, and one into Ginny and Hermione's room. Soon enough, everyone had a place to sleep and were settling their belongings in. The last thing Harry did was to sit down and start gathering up the loose notes and the books that he had taken out of his mother's trunk. He thought he would haul it upstairs and put it by the desk in his room. The others had gone out into the garden with Ginny for a look around.

Harry began stuffing books and papers into the small trunk. He had taken everything out earlier in the day to sort through it. He had been slightly bored and thought that if he combed through the contents, he might spot something interesting, or at least something that made sense.

Suddenly he stopped, looking at a sheet of yellowed parchment in his hand. It appeared to contain random notes like most of the others, except for the circled notation near the bottom, which caught his eye.

_Magic of the Elements _

Harry bit his lower lip. Did that mean Elemental Magic? Like what Dumbledore was teaching him? Harry pulled some more of the notes toward him.

_I have decided to do some research (FEAW) on my own. It seems to be a rare gift and really, of all the ancient spells I've read about, this is the most interesting. _

He began to notice those four initials on other sheets of parchment. He rifled through them. They could be seen repeatedly in what Lily had written. The notebook and some of the papers slid off his lap and on to the floor. The notebook fell open, and as Harry lifted it, his breath caught in his throat.

_I am able to light an occasional candle without my wand. I am reluctant to reveal this talent to any of the teachers. James says that Voldemort is always on the hunt for wizards possessing special gifts. He reckons I should keep it quiet._

Further along, _Flitwick has been very helpful in providing me with source materials and has allowed me to do a bit of a project for credit in class – I think that FEAW are the elements the books reference._

_F E A W_… That could be Fire, Earth, Air, and Water thought Harry.

Harry turned a number of pages ahead. _Today, a wizard, (Mr. Bode) called on me from the Department of Mysteries. He read my FEAW research paper. Flitwick must have been impressed to have forwarded it to the Ministry. He wants to meet and talk. He says the Department of Mysteries is always looking for wizards and witches with a good head for research. _

Several pages later Harry read_, I have a grant to study FEAW. James was very proud of me for being asked to work in the Department of Mysteries... He and Sirius think I might turn them on to some really great stuff. I'm sure I'll be stuck in a dusty library most of the time, but still, it's exciting. _

_My powers are quite small compared to some wizards who can wield these spells. A bit of fire is all I can manage. I wonder if practice would improve my control. Still, it seems few can manage any wandless magic at all._

An hour must have passed as Harry poured over the notes, trying to sort them, to make sense of them. Often they appeared to be random thoughts, but now that he knew the subject matter, they meant more, were more decipherable. Lily, it seemed, had some ability to perform wandless magic, however, when she discovered this talent, she didn't know at first that it was special, and then, due to the rise of Voldemort, was afraid to declare it to anyone. She realized her ability in this area was limited, but the subject sparked her interest. She became interested enough to research it and to ask Flitwick's help in getting books on the subject. Had Dumbledore known this? Was that why the headmaster had tested him in the first place?

If he could just sort out what she'd done, what she'd found out….perhaps she knew something he could use.

Harry was lost in thought and did not notice at first when Mac called to him from the dining room. "Young Harry, are you deaf boy?"

"Huh?" Harry said, coming back to the present.

"Will you come in here for a moment please," said Mac, insistently.

Harry shoved the notes into the trunk and pushed it aside. Then he walked to the dining room, suddenly aware of how quiet the house was. He was wondering where everyone had got to as he pushed the door open.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" came a chorus of voices from inside the room.


	5. Dueling Is Like A Game Of Chess

**Chapter Four – Dueling is Like a Game of Chess**

Everyone was gathered in the brightly lit room, standing against the walls. A large sugary cake stood upon the table. On the cake, were the words, _Happy Birthday Harry Potter. _Candles burned brightly on top.Next to the words were a broomstick and a snitch made of icing. Dobby was standing next to the table with eyes bright and apprehensive.

"Wow," said Harry, brushing the hair back from his face. "You know, I totally forgot it was my birthday today until I was talking to my aun…." Harry stopped and shook his head slightly. Then he changed the subject, "The cake looks great!" Harry saw Dobby beam up at him.

"So we surprised you then?" asked Ron with a laugh.

"Yes," said Harry, "you did."

Mac looked solemnly at Harry. "Today, you are 'of age' in the wizarding world; a man. That calls for a speech, young Harry!"

Harry looked around at his friends who were all beaming at him. Dumbledore must have arrived while he had been looking through his mother's notes, and was standing behind everyone. "Umm," Harry began. "Thanks everyone. With everything going on, well….I really had forgotten what day it was until just a little while ago." Harry squared himself and cleared his throat. "I guess I don't feel like I'm different today. Except that I'm done with the Dursleys. I'm just really glad that you're all here." Harry was suddenly overcome with a strange sensation of being adrift in the world but for his friends. "It really means a lot to me…Umm…Thanks again," he said quietly.

"Harry, you're a truly riveting speaker," Ron laughed. "At least, if you haven't anything more to say, cut the cake so we can eat." Harry grinned and took up the knife, craving large wedges for everyone. Dobby received much praise for the cake and he grinned toothily at the assembled group.

Along with his other birthday wishes, and presents was a package from Hagrid containing a load of Honeydukes chocolate bars, a dog-eared paper back manual for the motorbike, and a letter.

_Dear Harry, _

_I hope yer doin all right with the Weasley twins. I'm sure they're a fun lot to be stuck with. They always make me laugh. _

_Now yer of age, you might be allowed to use that flying motorbike. I found the manual an all, so I thought you'd be wantin it. _

_My summer is not so fun. Draco Malfoy is giving me fits. Tries hiding and avoiding work whenever he can. I have to tell him off three times a day. His mum keeps sending me letters for him, but he's not to have outside mail and she's been right rude when I send them back to her. _

_We had to capture a bunch of gnomes that had infested the greenhouses. .He was bloody useless. Once he'd get one and it would start squirming and scratching at him to try and get away, as they'll do, he'd drop em, and we'd be right back where we started, so a two hour job took most of the day._

_I'll be glad when term starts and he's not my problem any longer._

_Your friend,_

_Hagrid_

Harry smirked as he imagined Draco wrestling struggling gnomes and being yelled at by Hagrid everyday… and having to take it. Amidst the crumpled wrapping paper, the cheery conversation and the plates of cake, he beamed around at the room in general. He couldn't remember why he had felt badly at Aunt Petunia's leaving. He was among his true family here.

At the end of the evening, Dumbledore asked Harry quietly to walk to the gate with him. Harry left the warm bright dining room, full of happy talk and walked with Dumbledore out into the dark, cool night. "Harry, the night of your parents' death, I had to make a plan for your future. Through careful planning, I believe you will find you have sufficient gold to sustain you for a very long time. You will not have to dispose of any property for many years. I can turn the management of it over to you whenever you would like, but I would be very happy to continue to manage it for you until you are done with school, at the least. As you know, the gold in your Gringotts vault was transferred to Hogwarts. It is readily available should you need it."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, "Sir, could you just keep doing it for the time being? I don't really know much about it all, and with school, and of course Voldemort…well who knows if I'll even need it."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, I would be very concerned if your natural optimism were lost. You must keep a positive attitude. It may be a long while before you need face Voldemort."

Harry stared at the ground. "Sir, the longer I wait, the stronger he gets. The longer I wait, the more people he kills and tortures, and now he's attacking my friends for what he thinks they might know. I don't think I can afford to wait all that long."

"Harry, don't be in a rush to face him. Give us time to prepare you," Dumbledore replied. Harry was skeptical that any of the things he was learning was going to be enough when he actually came face-to-face with Voldemort again.

Harry and Dumbledore had arrived at the gate and Dumbledore made to leave. "Sir," said Harry, "Can I ask a question?"

"Why of course you may, I, however, may not be able to answer it," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"Why did you test me for Elemental magic? What made you think I might be able to do it?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "What makes you ask, Harry?"

"I found an old notebook of my mother's. I think she could do some Elemental spells," said Harry, "Does it run in families?"

"I was aware that Lily possessed a small amount of talent in this area. She also did some research on the subject. This trait does recur in families, although, there are so few examples that it is difficult to spot patterns. I thought it was worth a try."

"I've seen loads of wizards do a bit of magic without their wands. Except for my storm spell, I'm not sure I see any difference."

"At the lower levels Harry," began Dumbledore, "It does not appear much different. However, if you recall the test, I did not ask you to light a fire, I asked you to move a flame. Subtle though it may be, there is a difference. Almost any competent spell caster is capable of igniting tinder into flame; however they do not have control over the flame itself. There in lies the difference. You, Harry are controlling the thing itself." Harry looked at him, still puzzled. Dumbledore tipped his head as though searching for an explanation, "In muggle terms, it is like the difference between the person who flicks on the light switch and the person who operates the electrical plant that supplies the power to the switch." He looked at Harry keenly, "According to Professor Flitwick, your mother discovered, quite by accident, that she could move flame. I have no idea what power she may have possessed, but it seems that she passed it to you and that, at least is something." Dumbledore pulled out his pocket watch and Harry saw it glint in the moonlight as he inspected it. "Ahhh, alas, I must be off. A very Happy Birthday, Harry, and I'll see you in two days for your next lesson."

With that, Dumbledore opened the gate and disappeared into the night leaving Harry with more questions than answers.

After the dinner was cleared away, Harry suggested they have a bonfire again out by the garden. He was beginning to enjoy sitting and gazing into a fire outside, at night. Hermione, Ron and Ginny all agreed, happily. They had a lot of catching up to do.

The fire burned up brightly sending tiny sparks skyward on the hot stream of rising air. The four of them sat in a semi-circle, faces glowing in the firelight. Harry noticed Ron was rubbing his injured leg. Madam Pomfrey had said Ron was likely to have the limp, which resulted from Percy's attack, for the rest of his life. Harry understood that Ron didn't like to draw attention to it. It was like his scar. He'd rather people didn't mention it. Ginny was watching her brother too.

"This is so nice," said Hermione, as she moved in closer to Ron. Ron smiled at her and put an arm around her.

"Ya, we haven't had a chance to talk together for a month. I'm rather glad we got to come here," said Ron. "Not that it wasn't nice in France, mind you."

"Harry, this cottage is very nice," said Hermione. "Do you think you'll live here once school is done next year?" It was an innocent enough question and Harry nearly answered yes, without thinking. He really liked it here. The inescapable fight he must eventually wage against Voldemort replaced that thought. He wondered what chance he had to enjoy a peaceful life here or anywhere else. "Harry? Did you hear me?" she asked.

"Yes, I guess I'd like that very much," Harry replied softly. Ron seemed to know what was on his mind.

"Hermione, he's worried about Voldemort." Ron explained. He was now able to say the name without stumbling over it. He turned to Harry. "Harry, remember how Dumbledore told you that you should talk about killing those two death eaters? Well, here we are. So talk."

"Oh Ron!" said Hermione exasperatedly; obviously feeling that Ron was being completely insensitive.

"Ok," said Harry, feeling that he could probably put it into words now. "None of you were there, but you heard Neville tell what happened. It was as though everything was moving slowly, even though it was over in a second. I mean I didn't plan it or even think about it. I felt so angry at that moment, and I couldn't see how we'd get out alive. I was feeling desperate and I knew I could use the anger to curse them. I knew the hate was strong enough and I could do it. It's a very odd feeling, too. It feels like it's drawing you in. It's like blackness on the edge of your brain."

"The thing is, now that I know how to use the curse, it's almost… too easy. I know I can do it if I'm feeling enough hate. I don't want to turn into a person like the death eaters who just kill, sort of casual like. I mean…I know I can actually do it and I wanted to do it. I think that's the part that Dumbledore didn't want me to know about." Harry paused and there was silence. "When we found out about Lucius Malfoy giving Ginny the mark I thought how I'd kill him for it."

"Harry, don't let anyone..." began Hermione, but Ron interrupted.

"Lucius Malfoy….he….what mark?" said Ron, rounding on Harry and Ginny.

Ginny sighed. "When I was being held by the death eaters, Malfoy put a curse on me." She explained what Dumbledore had told her about the mark and how it was probably the way that Percy had been controlled.

"Why didn't you tell us this right away?" asked Ron shortly. Hermione was looking extremely worried.

Ginny did not look at her brother. "Ron, There's nothing anyone can do right now. Harry did the counter curse and we'll have to wait to see if Malfoy tries to use it to….make me….to control me," Ginny finished uncomfortably. Harry knew the thought of being controlled by Lucius Malfoy both worried and angered Ginny.

"I'll kill him," said Ron quietly. "Some people deserve to die…like Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange. We're all better off now she's dead."

Harry stared at the fire. Ron didn't really understand what he had said. Harry felt it was very hard to explain. "It's one thing to think about killing someone who is evil, and it's another to actually kill someone. It sort of leaves a mark on you. It makes me feel that I can't ever go back to being what I was before I did it. I can't ever go back to not knowing what it's like to take someone's life." Harry's voice cracked. "I'd like to kill Malfoy too if I met him again, but I know it would just make the next killing that much easier.

"Harry, in St. Mungos it was self-defense. I mean you had to do it to save your self and Neville, and that little girl," said Hermione.

"You see, that's the thing," said Harry, "I was mad and scared and I knew they were evil, and it gave me the power to kill them." He suddenly felt hot tears welling up in his eyes. He tied to stare straight ahead and not blink. He didn't want the others to think he had lost his nerve.

The group sat in silence. Harry noticed vaguely that Ginny had taken his hand. Finally, he let out his breath and removed his glasses, wiping his shirtsleeve across his eyes.

"What about Voldemort?" asked Hermione. "Can you bring yourself to kill him, Harry? Because maybe you should just go into hiding. If you can't do it, then you shouldn't try to face him."

"What a stupid thing to say," interjected Ron. "It's not the same thing."

"I think you're missing Harry's point," said Ginny.

"It's not like that really. I'm glad I killed those two, because if I hadn't they would have killed us. Voldemort deserves to die. He killed my parents and for that alone, I hope I can kill him. It's just it makes you feel sort of old and tired, like you know too much and you can't go back to not knowing." Harry's voice trailed off. He didn't know how to explain the feeling to his friends who had not looked into the dead eyes of a foe that would never rise again. He shivered. He wasn't sure that this talk was doing him good. He felt rather sorry for himself, and it made him feel tainted. He looked again at Ginny. Her eyes were trained on him and were full of concern. She put her hand on his chest, against his heart and held him in her gaze. He felt as though his very soul were bare and she was looking at it… and she was not looking away.

Ron cleared his throat. "Harry, you know we're all with you. If we can do anything, you know we will. I may not be the one who can kill him, but damned if I won't stand with you."

Harry turned to Ron. "Thanks, that means a lot."

The conversation had become very serious and as though everyone silently agreed that they should change the subject, Hermione spoke up. "Well, Harry, I really love the color of the bedroom you have us in. Such a pretty shade of yellow, don't you think Ginny?" Ginny nodded absently.

"It's a great house Harry. It'll be a good place to come home to after a day of catching dark wizards," said Ron, flashing him a grin. "Do you think it will make a good bachelor pad? I mean, will it impress girls?"

Harry laughed, "Why, were you thinking of moving in with me?"

"Only if women will be flocking to us in droves," said Ron. Hermione punched him in the arm. While they bickered playfully back and forth, Harry turned to Ginny who gave him a mischievous grin and a kiss on the cheek.

With all the new arrivals, there were fresh potential dueling partners and Mac was happily putting Harry up against two or more of them at one time. Mac rarely dueled with Harry himself, and when he did, it was always a short demonstration of some move or hex.

Harry was taking on various combinations, such as Ron and Fred, or Hermione, George and Ginny. Fighting a group was much more difficult than one opponent. Harry had to concentrate on disarming as many foes immediately at the beginning of the attack as he could if he was going to have a fighting chance. Mac explained that sizing up potential opponents at a glance was a key skill for an auror and it was what kept them alive. "Disarm the biggest threat first, boy," then if you have to duel with one of your attackers, you are fighting the weakest one." It only makes sense. The trick is figuring out which it is."

Of course, with his friends, the task was easy. He knew from experience that Hermione was the weakest dueler. While excellent at spell work, she was not aggressive enough in a fight to hold her own for long. Ron was a bit too rash. He failed to apply the same strategy he did in chess to a dueling situation. On the other hand, he was fearless in a fight. Ginny had a very cool head in a duel and she was not afraid to throw a curse at her opponent. She was very focused, as well. Fred and George, so similar in other ways, did have different dueling styles. They were both stealthy and unbelievably quick, but Fred was a faster thinker and was always planning a step ahead. George was better at confusing his opponent and in egging his opponent on to do something stupid in frustration.

Dueling with Ron was fun. Dueling with Fred, George and even Ginny was work.

Late one evening, about a week after his birthday, Mac asked Harry to take a walk with him. They went out strolling around the walled perimeter of the property. "Young Harry, you have reached the point where the available pool of dueling partners can not satisfy our need to improve your skill level. If you were a real auror trainee, there would fellow aurors certified at various levels, which could challenge you, and allow you to try yourself against increasingly difficult opponents. The twins have proven to be excellent opponents, but you have the gauge of them and so you can beat them at will. I notice that you still hold back and let them each win when you could have beaten them."

"Sir..." began Harry.

"No need to explain, boy. I can see the look in your eye as you duel. I can see when you feel you can envision the end game and when you retire and let them have the win."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He knew he was doing just as Mac said. He didn't know it was so obvious. "You can tell when I'm doing that?" asked Harry turning to look at Mac.

Mac laughed softly to himself. "Boy, I have been doing this sort of thing for a very long time. I am not worried about it as long as I can see that you actually know how to win and that you could execute if need be. I understand that they are your friends first and opponents second."

"No, boy, the real problem now is that you need a more unpredictable opponent. Dumbledore refuses to let any more people in here, and I quite agree. So, beginning tomorrow, you and I will begin dueling." Mac stopped in a very dark corner of the yard where no moonlight or cheery light from the windows penetrated, and faced Harry. His eyes gleamed strangely in the dark and bored into Harry's. He lowered his voice, "This will not be a well arranged game. I'm not going to be bowing or giving you time to think or plan. I'm going to be coming after you. Be prepared for anything." Mac's words hung shivering in the night air and if Harry hadn't taken the measure of this man before, he would have drawn his wand at this instant to defend himself for real; such was the menace that Mac had leveled at Harry in that moment. Harry shuddered.

"So, tomorrow will begin a new phase," said Mac, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and carrying on with the walk as though everything were fine. Harry casually felt his pocket. Yes, his wand was there.

The next morning, very early, there was a banging sound as the bedroom door slammed back against the wall and Harry sat up in bed with a lurch. As he fumbled for his glasses he saw Mac standing in the doorway, wand pointed at him. He advanced on Harry, approaching his bed. The man had a face as expressionless as stone. "Mac…" Harry said, trying to grasp the situation. Mac said nothing, but raised his wand aggressively. Harry felt sudden and overwhelming panic and he grabbed for his wand, crawling backward over his bed to get some distance between them. Harry was vaguely aware of Ron sitting up. "What's going on?" he asked blearily.

Harry wanted to know the same thing. He moved toward the door, wand ready, not taking his eyes off Mac. "Expelliarmus," shouted Mac, suddenly.

Harry yelled "Protego!" and dived to the floor. He scrambled out into the hall and heard the blast of a spell zoom over his head. "Mac, what are you playing at?" called Harry as he leapt down the staircase, looking over his shoulder.

"Potter, are you that sure of your friends? What if one of them was actually an enemy?" was the reply as another spell shot past him, grazing his shoulder and causing a sharp stinging sensation. Harry spun around. He was getting mad now. Gritting his teeth, he shot a stunner in Mac's direction, but the man was remarkably quick for his age and he dodged the red jet of light easily.

Harry flung open the door and stumbled out into the yard. What was going on? Why was Mac attacking him? Suddenly the image from the talk under the trees came back to him. _So, boy, beginning tomorrow, you and I will begin dueling. _ Harry recalled the ominous sounding words Mac had spoken. Was this what passed for dueling practice with Conner MacNessa? Being awakened out of a sound sleep and hexed? Harry rubbed his shoulder and instinctively ducked behind a bush to the side of the front door. He collected himself and then made a dash toward the side of the cottage just as Mac emerged and charged after him. Harry dodged a volley of spells until he found protection behind the stone shed in back of the house. He was panting and trying to sort out what to do next. Then he had an idea. He found a handhold in the stone wall and scrambled up it, pulling himself on to the roof. The metal edging scratched his stomach and as he rolled over, he saw blood droplets across his chest. As silently as he could, Harry crept over the peak of the roof and looked down at the ground. Mac had approached the shed and by the look on his face, was sure he had Harry, no matter what move Harry made. There would only be a split second before Mac realized his mistake. He aimed his wand and shouted, "Stupefy!" Mac slumped to the ground.

Harry was breathing hard as he lowered himself from the roof, and dropped to the ground. The entire household was now out on the lawn, wands drawn, trying to see what was happening. Harry noted that Fred and George were simply smiling. They must have been in on the plan, thought Harry, as he wiped some dirt from the palm of his hand. Even in the early coolness of the morning, sweat was covering his chest.

When he had caught his breath, he walked over to MacNessa, pointed his wand at him and said, "Ennervate." Mac stirred. He rolled on to his back, looking up at Harry. "How's your shoulder, boy?"

"It's ok," said Harry slowly.

"Good," Mac said, getting to his feet. "Good trick, getting on the top of this shed." Mac surveyed him, and said, "You got cut I see." Harry nodded. "The first thing to remember about escaping an attack is that the obvious ways out of a trap are often the easiest for an enemy to guard, so don't use them. The stairs would have been too easy to defend. Once you were on them, I could have had you." Harry knew this was true. "But the shed roof was an excellent choice. I'm impressed. Most attackers are looking straight ahead, not up or down. Very well done, that!"

"So, this was part of my lesson for today?" asked Harry rubbing his sore shoulder.

"Young Harry," said Mac putting a hand on his back, "This kind of thing will compose your lessons for the remainder of the summer. An attack may come at anytime. I went easy on you this morning, but if you hold back, I'll play rough."

Harry could not decide if he was angry or impressed.

That evening in the parlor, Ron was playing wizard chess with Fred, while Hermione and Ginny watched. It was a very loud game as each of them egged on their pieces. Mac looked up from his book occasionally to comment on the game. Harry was seated at the writing desk with the contents of his mother's trunk at his feet. Since the evening of his birthday, Harry had been reading and trying to organize his mother's notes. Hermione was keen to help him and Ginny had offered as well. For some reason, Harry didn't want others shuffling through his mothers note's…not yet. He followed her references to the books in the case but could not find the paper that she had written. And although she mentioned some other research she must have done in the Department of Mysteries, copies of those papers were missing from the trunk as well.

Suddenly, Harry had an inspiration. He turned in his chair and asked the room in general, "How can a person get permission to get into the Department of Mysteries?" The room went silent as they all looked over at him.

"You need special permission from the Ministry for that, boy," said Mac. "I'm not sure what office handles those requests. Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to see what my mother wrote about Elemental magic. I think the papers must be in the Department of Mysteries, because they aren't here. I wonder if I could get permission…."

"Young Harry, use your head boy," interrupted Mac. "You couldn't just ask to see those documents. It could leak out that you inquired and someone might put two and two together." Harry knew Mac well enough to know that he was now trying to work out a plan to do exactly that. Harry waited.

"We could ask to go in to do research on something else…" Mac looked pensive. "I'll have a bit of a chat with Dumbledore. Leave it to me."

The next afternoon Dumbledore took Harry into the side garden and they sat on the bench near the rose bed. "Harry, things are becoming most desperate," said Dumbledore. "We must put renewed effort into your spell work."

"I'm ready sir," said Harry,"I've been practicing a bit every day, but you haven't let me practice with air for some time now."

"I know, Harry," said the old wizard, "I want to teach you how to control it and not be weakened by it. You can now move the flame of a candle when it is 20 feet from you. Your range is increasing and that means your control is increasing."

"Have you ever tried to summon the storm without moving," asked Dumbledore.

"No," said Harry. "You told me to spin around and that's what I've been doing each time."

"Well then, today we are going to dispense with that," said Dumbledore. "I am drawing upon my own experience and air, is not "my" spell, as it were. Since it appears to be yours, you may not need the extra push. Then you can concentrate on control and not on falling down due to dizziness," snickered Dumbledore.

Harry got to his feet and he took several deep breaths, then he concentrated and summoned the element of air. He felt the power begin to surge into him and then back out spinning upward into wicked black storm clouds that crackled with lightening. He felt his arms rising up from his side but as though they belonged to a different body. The power surging through him was strong and seductive. Harry felt that it was beckoning him to funnel all his energy and strength into the storm. Harry resisted and aimed at a bush standing alone, feet from the garden wall. He willed the lightening to strike it and a moment later, a huge flash of light shot through the air and the bush exploded in a ball of fire. As it did, Harry sunk to the ground landing on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Around him, he heard awed voices.

"Harry, what was that?" Hermione gasped.

"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen," said Ron, "How did you…"

"Harry are you all right?" he heard Ginny say, and he felt her take hold of his shoulders and steady him.

"He will be fine in a moment," said Dumbledore, taking his arm and helping him up. Harry wobbled and was led to the bench where he sank down.

"Incredible!" said Ron.

"Are you certain you're ok?" asked Ginny softly.

Harry managed to whisper, "Fine."

As he waited for his strength and balance to return, Dumbledore explained to Ron, Ginny and Hermione what they just seen.

"Sir," said Hermione, "we knew Harry was learning these spells, but we didn't know it was anything like this. It's a very strong spell isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Ron appreciatively, "it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up."

"Ron!" said Ginny, giving her brother an icy stare. "This is serious." She looked up at Dumbledore.

"He will recover in a moment," said Dumbledore, "However, this is strong and ancient magic. Few in our world know of it or remember it. But it is very draining, as you can see."

"That spell must be able to kill Voldemort, don't you think?" asked Ron.

"Alas, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, "Voldemort is very powerful, and impressive as this demonstration was, I am sure that the spell would need to be much stronger for Harry to succeed against him." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "I need a quick word with Conner, Harry. Then we will continue with some exercises to improve your control. I'll return shortly." Dumbledore strode off to the house as the others looked at him in amazement and concern.

When Dumbledore returned the others left and Harry made ready to try the spell again, but Dumbledore motioned him back down onto the bench. "I've just had a word with Conner. He sent me a message regarding the Department of Mysteries. Harry we can't let you go anywhere outside of Hogwarts without a guard. Going to the Ministry these days is fairly dangerous. It is difficult to tell who is on whose side."

"We have kept the regular news from you because we wanted you well and rested while you can. Once you return to school the terrible state of things will be evident. We are starting to see death owls. People receive owl post that contains a deadly curse. Sometimes the very parchment is poisoned, or a spell is activated when the recipient opens it. The attacks on muggles are increasing at an alarming rate, and the death eaters become bolder each day. The Ministry is in a panic, and frankly, Ludo Bagman is not up to managing such a crisis."

Harry thought for a moment, "But sir, if everything is so confused at the Ministry, wouldn't that be a good time to sort of sneak in for a look around?"

"You don't sneak into the Department of Mysteries in broad daylight, Harry."

"I got in once," said Harry, but he inwardly winced at the memory.

"Conner has an idea, which I will pursue, but please do not get your hopes up." Dumbledore would say no more on the subject and they went back to Harry's training.

Mac was true to his word and began ambushing Harry at odd times and in odd places. Sometimes he employed the twins or Ron as attackers. After four days of this, Harry was throwing himself into a defensive posture and brandishing his wand at the least little noise. He took to sleeping with his wand under his pillow. He had inadvertently stunned Crookshanks twice for creeping through his bedroom in the dark, and now the cat was hissing at him and running for cover whenever he entered a room.

The worst duel so far had involved an attack that Mac launched during dinner. As they were all passing food around and talking, Mac came into the room with a hood over his face and began shooting jets of red light over their heads. The others had been trained to slump to the floor as though hit during these mock battles. This time, both the twins pulled on death eater masks and climbed over the table toward Harry.

Harry had leapt up and in order to throw off the twins, he sent the table over on them. Then he blasted out the window and jumped through it. Dobby, who did not care for the mess caused by the duels that began inside the house, immediately repaired the window just as Fred and George tried to jump through the opening. The result was that they crashed into the newly repaired glass, breaking it again and suffering many cuts. Meanwhile, Mac had circled around the outside of the house to intercept Harry. Harry, guessing that this would be Mac's strategy, had ducked behind a bush until Mac passed then sprung out at him, stunning him. Harry didn't know where the twins had got to, so he snuck back inside the house and crept back upstairs. He was going to lie low in his room, but Hedwig, upset by the loud bangs and shattering glass, screeched in disdain as he entered the bedroom. Harry heard footsteps on the stairs and angled for a hiding place. Ron burst in and Harry exhaled. "Where are the twins?" he asked in a whisper.

Ron drew his wand and shot a Furnunculus curse at Harry who only just ducked and rolled behind Ron's bed in time to miss being covered in boils. "Damn," he said to himself.

Harry slid noiselessly under the bed and hit Ron's foot with a tickling charm before he could come round the bed to look for Harry. As Harry slid out from underneath, Ron who was hopping on one foot, got him with a well-placed stinging hex. Harry's right side was on fire as he skated to the door and out into the hall. As he flew down the stairs, Mac, who had revived, was striding in through the door and hit Harry with a stunner, as he was half way down the stairs. Harry crashed over the railing, landing on the hall table and knocking the candlesticks to the floor.

The devastation was pretty complete, and Dobby was muttering to himself for an hour as he repaired all the broken windows and other items around the premises. "Dobby is not liking all this breaking and banging about Harry Potter. Dobby likes work but not such big cleanings up."

Harry grinned at the elf and promised he would talk to Mac about hosting battles that involved less breakage.

It was now less than a fortnight until they would all return to school. Dumbledore arrived at Godric's Hollow much earlier than usual. He walked in as they were all eating breakfast and took a seat.

"Harry, you asked for an opportunity to see the research records on Elemental magic, including your mother's contributions to the subject. I have arranged something which should work," Dumbledore said. "I began to realize that there might be something in those records which would be useful beyond your curiosity to see your mother's research."

"Our main problem is that we want access to the old reports and records but we do not want to tip off the Ministry as to the true reason for our interest. It was difficult to come up with a plan that might meet with Ministry approval and not arouse suspicion. I needed an innocent reason. I have given official notification to the Department of Mysteries that Conner MacNessa will be teaching a section on obscure magical methods and attributes as part of his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I have said he needs to research some of the old records, and they have granted permission. Due to wanting to be as efficient as possible, I have asked, and they are allowing, two student "helpers" to accompany Conner. That will be Hermione and yourself. Both of you have the credentials. Hermione is the top student in the school and you achieved the highest Defense mark in your O.W.L. test so far recorded."

"Still, we will endeavor to keep your presence in the Ministry low-key. I want you all in and back out as quickly as possible. I, myself, will make a visit to the Ministry that day under other pretenses, as will Remus and Alastor Moody. Arthur Weasley and Kingsley will both be on-hand as well. It is an open-ended invitation so we will pick a random day and not announce your arrival ahead of time."

Hermione had let out a gasp of pleasure. She liked nothing better than combing through a room full of old books. Mac had nodded indulgently at Dumbledore who looked to Harry. Harry grinned back. "Thanks," he said.


	6. Unexpected Discoveries

Chapter Five: Unexpected Discoveries

Mac was grumbling to himself. It was the evening before they were to go to the Department of Mysteries and he and Harry were alone in the parlor. The rest had gone off to bed an hour ago, but Harry was still reading over his mother's notes, while Mac was working on something at the desk. Harry thought Mac had been quite surly the past few days. "Emm...Mac, is there something wrong?" Harry asked.

Mac looked over at him, a scowl gracing his face. "Wrong? Yes there damned well is something wrong, young Harry," said Mac, who seemed to have been waiting for an opportunity to unload on someone. "That cursed Dumbledore has snagged me in hasn't he? I told him I'd come teach, as a favor, for one year. Now he has me staying on, and taking on this to boot." He brandished a letter he had been reading. Before Harry could ask about the letter, Mac stormed on, "I told him I wanted nothing to do with his little war, but I ended up part of the battle, the night young Ginny was rescued. Now he's got me doing a mission with you and Granger into the Ministry of Magic. So much for staying out of the thick of things!"

Harry wasn't sure what to say, "Mac, I know you wanted to stay out of it because I heard you tell Dumbledore so. You don't have to come tomorrow. Maybe someone else could do it." Harry hesitated, "I hope you know I really appreciate all you've taught me…and thanks for taking my side."

Mac's face softened into a craggy smile, "Young Harry, I took a liking to you as soon as I met you. You've got character, boy, and heart. I feel honor-bound by my friendship with your grandfather to keep you from being used by these noble-minded fools. I thought I could do this, but remain on the sidelines as it were. I've no stomach for seeing more young wizards that I've trained, sent up against bad odds and sent to their deaths by those who want to move the chess pieces on the board."

Mac sighed heavily, "I must confess that isn't working. I can see that in order to be of help to you, I'll need to ask the question that I haven't wanted the answer to. I'll need to know the black secret at the bottom of all this. Dumbledore has offered but I refused to listen and I'll not ask him. It is your secret, or destiny, or bane, and not his. Young Harry, if we are to go into the Department of Mysteries on a quest for information, I'd like to know what is at stake. However, you should consider well before you tell me. Whatever it is, it caused the capture and torture of young Ginny. That means it's something deadly, and it means there is already a leak."

Harry looked at him, "I don't mind telling you the prophecy. I thought you might even have seen it when we did Occlumency training."

Mac face twisted, "There is a _prophecy_? And that's what's driving all this?" To Harry's surprise, he let out a small laugh, "I'm sorry boy, but I've never put much stock in Divination."

Harry looked away. Wouldn't it be nice if the prophecy were so much nonsense? Unfortunately, whether it was or wasn't, Voldemort believed it, and for good reason. Harry found he didn't want to try to justify something that would likely be the death of him. Before he knew it, he had stood up to leave. Mac caught his arm.

"Sorry, boy," he said. "I should think before I speak," Mac fell silent. "Go on, tell me this prophecy."

Harry felt rather silly telling the prophecy to Mac, knowing that he had scoffed at the idea. It made a part of him feel a bit mad for believing it. Harry explained the entire thing in a flat voice, trying not to indicate his own feeling of being trapped by the thing. When he had finished, he explained what Dumbledore had told him about his birth and Neville's. He explained too that Voldemort had only the first part of the prophecy and that he had killed Trelawney and then captured Ginny to get the remaining piece.

"So, based on this prophecy, Voldemort has been trying to kill you since you were a year old? He's had several goes at you, all unsuccessful, obviously, and now we're training you so that you can kill him, but no one knows how to do it?" Mac sighed and shook his head, "Brilliant… really brilliant plan, that."

Harry did not know what to say. He was tempted to defend what Dumbledore had done, but in reality, he too thought it a bit weak. Hiding and learning ancient magic was all Dumbledore had come up with.

Mac looked hard into Harry's eyes. Harry was sure Mac's voice cracked a bit as he spoke, "And so you asked me to teach you the Avada Kedavra curse last year because you felt like you were unprotected. Because he could do the curse and you could not."

Harry nodded his head.

Mac rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "It's a sorry state of affairs, make no mistake. It doesn't matter whether the foul prophecy is real or a fiction, Voldemort believes it's true and unless you want to hide out your entire life, you'll have to face him."

"Yeah," said Harry quietly.

Harry, Hermione and Mac were set to apparate to the atrium of the Ministry of Magic on Friday afternoon. Their goal was to see if the Department of Mysteries contained any useful information regarding Elemental Magic. Harry particularly wished to find the paper his mother had written nearly twenty years before. Dumbledore did not hold out much hope that anything of value could be learned; however, Harry saw Dumbledore and Mac with their heads together in the garden that morning and he was sure Dumbledore was giving Mac some instructions about what types of things to look for.

A pass had been secured so Mac, along with two student helpers could do research in the library of the Ancient Magical Studies area. Mac had prepared them for the changes within the Ministry itself. There was now tight security and some areas had listening spells placed on them, so conversations could be monitored. It was not safe to say anything one did not want overheard.

The atrium echoed with the pop that signaled Hermione's arrival at the apparation point. Mac had apparated first, followed by Harry. Harry saw he had arrived in an open area cordoned off with a heavy velvet rope attached to gleaming golden posts. Most of the workers had left early anticipating the weekend, and the cavernous space was quite empty, as Mr. Weasley had predicted it would be. Aurors stood guard, wands at the ready, near the only spot within the Ministry that was now open for apparation. Due to the recent terror inspired by Voldemort and his death eaters, the Ministry had, according to Dumbledore, placed heavy anti-apparition spells on the entire place. Only this single spot remained open.

The aurors looked surly and quickly checked Mac's pass, then pointed them all toward the security desk near the golden gates. "Pass," demanded the bored wizard at the security desk. Mac presented the parchment note that would allow them temporary access to the Department of Mysteries, and then leaned casually against the man's desk. Harry kept the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and avoided looking up at the security wizard as his wand was inspected. Hermione chatted with Mac about the atrium ceiling and the meaning of the golden symbols that wound their way across it, while her wand was also inspected. The security wizard finally issued them all small badges to pin to their clothes. Harry's simply said "Hogwarts Student – Research Project." This was just fine with Harry.

Once they had been logged in, the security wizard pointed, unnecessarily toward the golden gates and the lifts beyond. Mac walked rapidly toward them with Harry and Hermione behind him. Remus and Mad-Eye Moody were standing near the gates as they approached, pretending to be deep in conversation. Remus gave Harry a quick wink as he passed.

Soon they were descending amidst many bumps and grinding noises, down to the ninth floor. Mac looked irritated as the lift clunked to a halt and the cool female voice announced, "Department of Mysteries."

"I really dislike this place," Mac said as they stepped out into the corridor that led to the, all too familiar black door that used to haunt Harry's dreams. "Least secure place in the wizarding world, the Ministry." He gave a bit of huff and led them forward. It seemed as though Mac knew his way around here. He walked right up to the door to the Department of Mysteries and pushed it open, motioning them inside. "Ancient Magical Studies," he said gruffly, before the doors in the round black room had a chance to start spinning. The doors moved slowly around three positions, clunked to a stop, and Mac strode forward toward the one that had opened directly in front of him. Harry and Hermione followed, glancing at each other. Harry wished he would have had a clue how the door system worked on that night a year ago when he and the others had come here to find Sirius.

They stepped through the doorway and found they were in a kind of laboratory, similar to the room that held the time turners, and the large bell jar. There were long tables standing in the center of the room and shelves of books lining the walls. A stooped wizard in the far corner was turning pages in a book and examining an object that resembled an urn set upon the table next to him. Along one wall was a glass case that was filled with an assortment of what looked like wizard's staffs, large glowing crystals, and other oddments. Set along the far wall was a large door with heavy, strange carvings upon it. Over the doorway was a sign that simply read "Restricted."

A witch that Harry recognized as Emmeline Vance came toward them. "Conner MacNessa," she said, politely, "It's been a long time." She took his hand.

Mac took her hand graciously and gave her a hearty greeting and a smile. "Emmeline, good to see you again. I didn't know you worked in this department."

"Yes," she replied, "Research is my passion. Dumbledore explained your visit of course, but I'm afraid you've come at a bad time, though. There are very few workers in the building," she said with a wink, "but I can get you started, then you'll have to work on your own. Most of my colleagues have left for the day."

"Imagine that," said Conner, with a hint of a wink back, "Well, we'll just have to soldier on ourselves. Just a bit of a school project, you know."

Emmeline led them through the restricted door. Beyond it was a short hall with a room to the left and a door straight ahead. There was the musty smell of old parchment here. Emmeline leaned closer to them and whispered. "Start with the shelves near the back wall and to the right." Then she steered them into the room to the left, which housed an impressive collection of books, old wooden file cabinets and a few tables and mismatched chairs.

Emmeline took them forward to a clear orb mounted on a tall strand in the center of the room. "This orb can point you to the materials you seek," she explained rather loudly. "Just ask it, and it will tell you the shelves to search." She leaned toward Mac and whispered, "Highly inaccurate." She winked at him and then she strode to the door. "I'll return in two hours to collect you. Good luck," she said as she swept from the room. Harry lowered his hood and checked his watch. Hermione, now clearly in her element, moved to the shelves Emmeline had indicated and began running her finger along the spines of book after book, checking their titles.

Mac approached the orb and made a show of saying "The theory surrounding Elemental Magic."

The Orb glowed blue and an ethereal voice said, "shelf number twelve, center aisle five."

Mac raised his eyebrows and then began to take parchment and quills from the bag he was carrying and placed them on a table. Hermione quickly accumulated a large stack of books that she laid on the table and she and Mac began flipping through them. Harry went looking for documents and reports instead of books. The file cabinets were the logical starting point.

Harry walked over to the row of cabinets and pulled the first drawer open. The files had little yellowed tabs on them announcing the name of the author of each report. This should be simple, thought Harry. He shut the first drawer and moved along until he found the drawer labeled _P_.

Dust floated upwards as he ran his fingers over the tabs in search of _Potter_. Pingle… Porter… Potter, there it was. Harry pulled the file out and sat down at the nearest table. Inside were several short reports, penned in the same hand as his mother's notes. The first read, _A Discussion of the Uses of Gold in the Magical Ceremonies of Egyptian Snake –Cult Wizards_. The next was entitled, _Locations and Properties of Enchanted Obelisks of Britain. _The final item was a single sheet of parchment that said Lily Potter was going to take a leave of absence due to pregnancy and that research concerning protection spells of the Druids had been passed on to a wizard named Morris Timberlake.

The report that Harry was looking for did not appear to be among these. Where could it be he wondered? Had it been lost? He sat sullenly for a full minute before it hit him. Harry jumped up again and returned to the files, this time searching out the drawer labeled _E,_ for Evans. How stupid, he thought to himself. Sure enough, there was a much thicker file under the name _Lily Evans_, and he wrenched it from the packed drawer.

This file also contained several reports, but one was much larger than the others were. It was entitled, _Calling upon the Elements, Magic of Great Power_, Harry flipped through the report. At a quick glance, it was hard to tell if it would provide any new insight. There was a section concerning control, which could be valuable. He wouldn't have time to spend going over it carefully now. Mac had told Harry they would simply take away any document of interest, and hope not to be caught. Harry placed it in front of Mac, who nodded and set it aside.

They spent the time allotted to them combing through books and tracing references. Lily's was the only thing Harry thought worth the time. Most of the book references Hermione located did nothing to add to Harry's knowledge or understanding of the spells. He was beginning to think that Dumbledore had sent him here just as a way for the three of them to pass a dull afternoon. Then something quite unexpected caught Harry's eye.

Hermione was showing him yet another reference in which some shriveled old sorcerer had claimed he could move a mountain at the command of some king, if given a lot of gold. This was a storyline, now common in their readings. Harry's eyes flitted across the page, as Hermione whispered to him about the sorcerer and the king, over to a reference on the next page. The word _Lycanthropy_ caught his attention.

As Harry gazed at the passage Hermione's voice faded in his head. The passage was devoted to werewolves. It was explaining that the bite of a werewolf could be reversed

and it referenced a book. Harry stepped back from the table, feeling a rush of excitement. He'd seen the book that was mentioned in the text. He knew he had. He'd seen it right in this room.

"Harry!" came the annoyed voice of Hermione.

"Just...wait," he said, sprinting down the far aisle and scanning the titles. He was looking for _Octonarius Magnus Metamorphosis_. He had seen that title just a few minutes ago. He remembered because he wondered briefly if _Octo_ meant _six_ or _eight_? Harry ran his hand over the edges of the books as he scanned spines for the one he wanted. And, there it was. Harry pulled an old battered book carefully from its shelf and returned to the table. Hermione was shaking her head in an exasperated manner and searching through yet another book, but Mac was eyeing Harry with curiosity.

"What do you have there, boy?" he asked.

"Maybe it's nothing," said Harry, but expectation was swelling in his chest. He flipped the pages and found the text was hard to read. Some of it appeared to be English but of much of it made no sense to Harry. He showed the cover to Mac and asked him if he could translate it.

"Eight powerful transformations, or something of that kind," said Mac.

Harry plopped down and leafed through the book. It took him several minutes to find the section he was looking for. At the top of a worn and ragged page was the word, Lupin, in ornate, hand-penned letters. "Sir," asked Harry, "Does the word _Lupin_ have some meaning?"

"Yes, young Harry, it's Latin for _wolf_," said Mac.

The information that followed was in some arcane form of English, from which Harry could gather little. However, the pictures, as in the old book Dumbledore had showed them concerning the Mark of Domination, told the story.

Harry carried the book to Mac and laid it in front of him, then stood waiting. Mac glanced up at Harry and then down at the book. Hermione too, leaned in to look. Mac finally let go a low whistle. "Interesting," he said quietly, "extremely interesting, young Harry." Then in a very low whisper, "Quite a find. I wonder if the Ministry realizes they have this?"

Harry shrugged and whispered back, "The book was really dusty…I don't think anyone's looked at it for a long time."

"Is it…?" Hermione asked, squinting at the page.

"Maybe a cure for Remus," whispered Harry, "and others like him, too."

"Oh my!" said Hermione aloud. "Can you translate this?" she asked Mac, but he had already begun making some notes.

Emmeline Vance rapped softly on the door and then opened it. "Your time is nearly up," she announced. Then she came to their table and bent low, whispering, "You should clear out now. The Minister has learned that you three were in the building and he's on his way down to see Harry. Apparently, he has some rather unsavory characters with him and Arthur Weasley says not to let them find you working in the records room. I'll be out in the lab area and I'll try to stall them till you can clear up."

After the door was closed, Mac scowled. "That huge git. Look you two, if there is anything you want to take along, lay it in a stack here on the table."

Hermione looked questioningly at him then seemed to catch on. "You mean we're going to steal documents?" whispered Hermione aghast.

"The word, girl, is _borrow_. We are borrowing documents, which, by the way will never be missed. Haven't you noticed the layer of dust over everything?"

Harry laid the two files on the pile along with the book containing the werewolf cure and several that Mac had been perusing. Mac waved his wand and transfigured the stack into an ordinary looking writing quill, which he placed in his bag. They replaced the rest of the books and then headed for the door.

Voices were coming from the laboratory as they stepped through the restricted doorway minutes later. "Minister, it's so nice to have you visit our little corner of the Department of Mysteries. Would you gentlemen like a cup of tea?" Emmeline was saying.

"No need to trouble about that," said Ludo Bagman rocking on the balls of his feet and sporting his usual boyish grin. Harry recalled Bagman's strange reaction upon running into him in the hallway of Hogwarts after his escape from St. Mungos. Spotting Harry, Hermione and MacNessa, he said enthusiastically, "There's the boy I was telling you about." Bagman came forward and pumped Harry's hand. "Harry this is Heathcote Barbary and Gideon Crumb. And you are?" he said turning to Hermione.

"Uh…this is Hermione Granger, and this is Professor MacNessa," said Harry jerkily making introductions.

Bagman turned to his guests, "They're here to do a special project for school, over the summer holiday and all, very impressive." Harry thought he detected a note of condescension in Bagman's voice. The other two men were standing mildly by, but Harry felt very uneasy.

Just then, Kingsley Shacklebolt burst in the door, looking anxious. "Why, Harry, I was leaving the building when I heard from Alastor Moody, that he'd seen you come in today. "How are you? Are you having a good summer? Quite a piece of flying you did last year at Hogwarts when the match was attacked. I have told so many people about that one," he laughed appreciatively. "But, Minister, you were there too, quite something, didn't you think?"

Mac began to nudge them toward the door as the conversation about the disastrous Quidditch match of the following year continued. Kingsley, Bagman and his guests trailed along. The group got into the lift and soon were back on the entrance hall level. Bagman and the two dodgy wizards continued up, while Kingsley stepped out with Harry, Hermione and Mac, saying he'd walk with them to the entrance.

Once they reached the apparition point, Kingsley gave them a knowing nod and said, "Get back quickly, I don't trust those two with Bagman."

Hermione went first and Mac shook Kingsley's hand as Harry apparated.

Dobby was calling everyone for dinner as Harry Hermione and Mac entered the cottage after their trip to the Ministry. Mac set down his bag and told them both they'd review the materials they had lifted from the Department of Mysteries on a full stomach. "A thief has to eat too," he said laughing jovially.

Harry had a hard time concentrating on chicken and potatoes when a load of potentially valuable information was lying in an old leather satchel in the hall. Once Harry had finished his meal, he quickly went to the bag and pulled the enchanted quill from it. He laid it on the hall table and removed the transfigurment charm, returning the books and reports to their normal forms. It was hard to decide what to tackle first. Harry was tempted by both the werewolf ritual and by his mother's notes. In the end, He opted to read his mother's paper, as he could do nothing with an ancient text written in an arcane language. Mac and Hermione would have to sort that out.

Harry took the research paper, walked outside, and sat down on the front steps to the cottage. The sky was growing dusky but there was still light enough for reading. Two hours later, however, Harry was forced to conjure candles to help him finish. Once he had begun, he didn't wish to stop, or to move. There was definitely something here worth his attention. When he reached the end, he stared off into space for a bit and then paged through the report again looking for the one passage that had made the trip worthwhile.

Ron joined him as the sky darkened to velvety black. "What are you reading?" he asked.

"It's my mum's paper," he said absently. "Ron, would you try something with me?" Harry asked, "An experiment?"

"Sure," he said.

Harry reread the passage: _This magic may be able to be increased in power by increasing the power of the one casting the spell. Ancient texts claim wizards can draw on additional power to feed the spell but there is no description of this ever having been done…_

"Umm," Harry cast around for a way to test out the hint of an idea woven into his mother's words. He could tell she didn't understand it when she wrote it, but after months of practice with Elemental spells, he could see the point. Harry rose and Ron followed him. He walked to the bon fire area and piled a few logs and sticks in the place then set them on fire with his wand. He watched the fire for a moment. "I'm going to do a spell, without my wand. I'm going to draw power from you as I do it. If it works, we may be able to raise this fire off the ground. It could make you feel a bit weak; I don't know exactly what will happen." It was a lot of fire, and Harry knew he could not move it upward himself. Ron nodded.

"Should I do anything?" he asked.

"I don't think so," said Harry, and then he added, "It may not even work. We'll have to hold on to each other, though."

Harry concentrated on the flame and grasped Ron's wrist and Ron clasped Harry's. Ron signaled he was ready and Harry worked the spell. Harry cleared his mind and then concentrated on the flame, letting the power of the spell sweep through him. Then he began to sense power flowing into him to support the spell. It must be coming from Ron he thought. Harry pushed the spell harder and the bonfire flame began to rise. Harry felt thrilled and focused even harder. Soon the flame had risen several feet above the ground and with a final effort, it popped loudly and disappeared.

He turned happily to Ron who looked pale and weak kneed but was still upright. Harry had felt the power of the spell definitely increased, being linked to Ron. "That was fantastic," said Ron, breathing hard, "but I feel really weak right now."

"These spells drain you," replied Harry. "Maybe you should sit down?"

"Good idea," said Ron dropping down onto the ground. Harry started imagining the possibilities. Perhaps with more practice, he and Ron could bring off an even more impressive display. His thoughts were interrupted when Ron spoke. "That was really strange," he said. "Is that how you feel when you make that storm thing?" he asked.

Ginny and Hermione strolled into the garden at that moment. "What's up?" asked Ginny.

"I just tried something I picked up on in my mum's report," said Harry, lowering his voice. He explained how he'd tried to link Ron and himself to cast a stronger Elemental spell.

"It really worked too," said Ron enthusiastically from his spot on the ground.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," said Hermione. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Hermione, I'm fine," said Ron. "Don't fuss so much."

"Listen," said Harry, as he sunk down on the grass next to Ron. There was no one else in earshot. "Listen, I don't know what difference it will make, but I'd like to keep this little experiment quiet for now. I don't want anyone else, but us to know about it, Ok?"

"But surely, you're going to tell Dumbledore what you discovered?" said Hermione.

"Not even him." said Harry with finality. Then seeing the look of skepticism on their faces, he said, "Look at it this way. Dumbledore trusted Snape and Snape betrayed him. I need any advantage I can get in a fight with Voldemort. The more people that know about this, the more chance of a leak. Look what happened to Ginny with the prophecy. You and Ron were going to be next, Hermione. This has to stay secret, at least until I know if it could help or not. Agreed?'

They all three nodded and murmured their ascent.

By the end of the night, they had discovered that Ron was by far the strongest link for Harry, and that adding a third person did absolutely nothing, whether the third person held Harry's other hand or Ron's free hand. In fact, when Hermione and Ron had each held one of Harry's hands, the spell hardly worked at all. Harry had the feeling that the flow of the force needed to conjure the fire spell was confused or disrupted somehow.

Harry surmised that having someone hold Ron's other hand did not work because Ron could not perform the spell himself, so he couldn't channel the extra power to Harry.

Harry had not tried to use the air spell yet. He wanted to work on the control issue more before subjecting Ron to it. If he, Harry, ended up on the ground from casting it, who knows what damage could be done to Ron. No….he needed far more control before trying anything that potentially dangerous.

Mac had gone off to bed by the time they all came back in the house. The spell book Harry had found was gone. He was sure Mac had it with him. Harry decided to call it a night.

The next day, Mac looked up at him as he entered the dining room for breakfast. "Let's get cracking on that spell book after we eat, shall we?"

Harry nodded.

"Find anything in that paper of your mother's?" Mac asked.

Harry avoided looking at Mac, pretending to pour pumpkin juice, "Not really."

"Too bad," said Mac, turning a page in the newspaper.

Harry, Hermione and Mac poured over the books they had borrowed, after breakfast. They used the large dining room table. Hermione immediately began taking notes and making lists of references. Harry, however, had a book open in front of him but was not concentrating on it. He was more interested in watching Mac, attempting a translation of the Lycanthropy ritual.

"I've met Remus Lupin you know," said Mac without looking up from his translation. "Seems a nice sort. Another of Dumbledore's little club."

Harry watched Mac as he scratched some more notes and then continued, "I'm sure you know boy, that the life line of a werewolf is very short. It just takes too much out of you. The constant transformations, say nothing of the dangers in the dark. It drains your life force too fast."

Harry waited.

Mac finally turned to Harry and said, "There is a potion that needs to be made. Here, take a look."

Harry got up and took a seat next to Mac. He glanced down through Mac's notes. "There is no way to make it without that potion aging spell you taught me. Look at the timing," said Harry reading over the complex set of instructions again.

Harry had resisted telling everyone about the notation they had found in the old spell book that purported to be a cure for werewolf-ism. "I just wish there was a way to test it before feeding it to your Mr. Lupin," said Mac. "I don't like this combination of ingredients here," he said pointing to the book.

No, thought Harry, he didn't fancy consuming something containing dragon's blood and essence of belladonna. It sounded poisonous to him. "Could we test it on an animal first?" asked Harry.

Mac seemed to be deep in thought. "What? Oh, I don't think it would present a fair test of the results. I was thinking that I might know someone who could give us an answer." Mac smiled and raised his eyebrows but would say no more.

George returned from the shop in the evening with a stack of heavy parchment envelopes bearing the Hogwarts crest. He passed them out to Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. "Rather thicker than normal," he said as he handed the final one to Harry. Silence fell as they ripped open their school letters. Hermione was by far the fastest reader and so when she gasped a few moments later, none of the others knew what was wrong.

"Did you see this!" she asked. "Well I don't know how that can work, after all…," she said heatedly.

"What are you on about, Hermione?" asked Ron.

"This," she said, holding up a two page letter from Professor McGonagall.

Harry normally skipped the welcome letter from McGonagall, as it was always, more or less the same, giving the time to catch the train at Kings Cross station. He had turned instead to the list of schoolbooks. Now he shuffled the pages and began to read Professor McGonagall's letter.

_Dear Students,_

_Another term is approaching and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stands ready to educate all young magical students. However, due to recent events, the Ministry of Magic has demanded that the school train, the Hogwarts Express, be idled at this time. The Ministry fears that a trainload of students would present far too interesting a target to You-Know-Who and his death eaters. _

_The Ministry feels that any mode of transportation involving a large number of students could prove disastrous. We cannot disagree with this logic and therefore, Hogwarts offers the following options for transportation to school:_

_Those 'of age" may apparate to Hogsmeade and carriages will run from the station to the school regularly beginning on August 28th and continuing until September 3rd. _

_Floo locations have been established at the Three Broomsticks, Shrivenshafts, and the Hogsmeade Owl Post Office. Contact the location of your choice by owl for a time slot. _

_The Knight Bus can transport students to the gates of Hogwarts._

_You must understand that Hogwarts cannot guaranty the safety of any child until such time as they are safely inside the Hogwarts grounds. _

_I hope that this situation will not deter students from attending school. In the event that a family decides against returning their students to school at this time, a study curriculum may be obtained by return owl. Special O.W.L. testing can be arranged through the Ministry office for Education and Magical Training. Further information is available upon request._

_The staff of Hogwarts School wishes all parents and students to know that the utmost care will be taken to insure students' safety during the coming year. We are mindful of parents concerns and are happy to address them. _

_Signed,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Wow," said Ron, "No Hogwarts Express."

"Seems so," said Harry, trying to digest it all.

"I'll bet a lot of students don't come back this year," Ginny said.

Harry shook his head. Hogwarts was like his home. He couldn't imagine parents keeping their children away or children not wanting desperately to go there.

MacNessa came into the room as they all were discussing this turn of events. "Hogwarts letters?" he asked, gruffly. They all looked at him, nodding. "Sit down, why don't you." They all took seats. "The Ministry is a bunch of bloody fools most of the time. In this case, I'm not so sure. They could put a heavy guard on the train and they could add some magical protections, which I believe, Dumbledore has offered to do, but if there were an incident, the magical community would immediately blame the Ministry. The other problem is that providing a sufficient guard for the train would mean no protection to speak of anywhere else. The Ministry wants everyone's heads down." Mac continued darkly, "They sent the dragons back to Romania after the attack by the death eaters. Those dragons did more harm than good in the end. They hoped that the tent city around Hogsmeade would clear out. Of course rampaging dragons were enough to scare most of them away before the Ministry had made any announcements about their removal."

Mrs. Weasley's owl followed the next day. It told Ron and Ginny that they could choose to stay home or return to school. She said that they had faith in Dumbledore and the integrity of the Hogwarts grounds and would leave the decision up to them. Fred or George were to bring their answers home and take care of purchasing any books in Diagon Alley.

How they would get back to school was a point of discussion. Harry, Ron and Hermione could now all apparate. Ron and Hermione had taken the test just after school had ended. Neither had much difficultly learning how to do it, having been taught by Bill Weasley, the week before they left for France with Hermione's parents. Ginny had not learned apparation yet, and sorely wanted to. Harry thought it only made sense, as knowing it might have saved her torture at the hands of the death eaters. He argued his case to Dumbledore the next time the headmaster made an appearance.

Dumbledore listened for a bit and then threw up a hand to stop him. "Harry, I can not comment about Ginny being taught apparation before she is "of age." I can only tell you that Arthur has asked Conner to give Ginny some private instruction this week, before school term begins." His blue eyes twinkled brightly as he surveyed Harry. Harry smiled back.

"What about her being underage though?" Harry asked.

"There are ways to keep such things quiet and with the current climate of confusion within the Ministry…well," said Dumbledore. "Also, Harry, in war, some rules must by need be broken," he said seriously.

"What will happen at the school this year?" Harry asked.

"I am afraid that many parents will keep their students at home this year. The Daily Prophet has run photos of the Quidditch stadium from last years attack and they have been questioning the overall safety of the school almost every day."

"Why would they do that? It was Bagman's fault that the match was open to the public."

"Harry, like all politicians, Ludo Bagman does not want a huge disaster to occur on his watch. There are already more than he can handle. People are extremely frightened. Frankly I expect a very low turn out."

It was the last night they would spend in Godric's Hollow before returning to Hogwarts. Dobby had created a wonderful feast for their last dinner. Mac had left for school that morning owing to having some teacher's responsibilities to fulfill. Dumbledore likewise was busy at school. The result was a very young, wound up group around the table.

Fred and George, always game to provide entertainment, removed their socks and performed an impromptu sock puppet show between the main course and pudding. It involved a lot of whacking with serving spoons, but the appreciative audience laughed till their sides ached.

When dinner was over, Harry and Ginny decided on a stroll outside in the warm night air. They walked slowly through the garden and sat down in the grass under a large tree. The night breeze ruffled the hem of her skirt and lifted Harry's fringe off his face. A pale full moon was rising and illuminating the stepping-stones on the path. Harry thought momentarily about Remus and imagined him shut up in a room in Grimmauld Place, fighting his werewolf urges. Perhaps they're recent discovery could help him.

"I had a long letter from my mum," said Ginny. Harry looked up from his musing and smiled at her. "She's feeling back to normal for the most part. She's really grateful for what you did, Dad too…getting rid of my curse and all. She told me to make sure that I thanked you specially for it." Ginny stuck a flower she had picked into Harry's pocket. "How, can I thank you Harry?" she asked him raising her eyebrows.

Harry grinned at her. "I'd be in trouble if I answered that question," he said.

"Possibly," she replied and she gave him a kiss.

Harry walked into his bedroom an hour later and saw Ron and Hermione snogging energetically on Ron's bed. Hermione quickly disengaged from him. "Oh, Harry!" she said a bit breathlessly.

"Sorry," he said and began to back out of the room.

"No, come in... I...need to get packing," said Hermione, who slid off the bed, straightened her clothes, and Harry thought, did up some buttons before she turned toward him and walked out of the room smiling and looking flushed. Ron crossed his arms behind his head and grinned significantly at Harry who flopped down on his own bed.

"I'll really miss this when we're back at school," said Ron.

"Miss what?" asked Harry, suppressing a laugh.

"Well, except for you barging in, there's loads more privacy here, if you know what I mean, mate."

Harry did know. He had just returned with Ginny from the garden, and was very glad Ron had not been the one to come across them fifteen minutes ago. "Really sorry about that, Ron," he said.

"It's ok, I mean she was about to call a halt anyway." Ron paused significantly, and then said, "Did you know girls have these sorts of spells they can learn so they avoid getting pregnant?"

Harry knew of this because Remus had shared this information with him during a talk they had had last spring. "Are you...and Hermione...?" Harry began and then wished he hadn't. He didn't really want to know what they were doing when they were alone.

Ron rolled on his side facing Harry and looking more serious. "No, we haven't yet, or anything, but it's a matter of time, isn't it." Harry nodded, unsure. Ron lowered his voice. "I gave her a bit of a ring tonight," he said blushing slightly, "I got it when we were in France, but I was afraid what she'd say; whether she'd accept it or not. I had to borrow money from Fred and George, but I wanted us to be more permanent, if you know what I mean."

Harry grinned at him. "She's liked you forever, mate. It just took you awhile to catch on."

"You can say that, but with my leg and all..."

"You're not still on about that?" said Harry. "What's she got to do so that you understand that's not important to her?"

Ron winked at him and smiled rakishly, "Weren't you listening?"

Harry chucked a pillow at him. Ron retaliated and soon they were wrestling so raucously on the floor, so that Fred called up the stairs asking if a herd of Hippogriffs were rampaging the second floor.

The next afternoon as Harry deposited his school trunk in the hallway, Hermione and Ginny were bustling around getting their own luggage ready. He noticed a small gold ring on Hermione's finger that he hadn't noticed before. Harry saw her tip her hands slightly and glance at it, smiling. Then his eye flicked to Ginny who was bending over her trunk, adding a folded shirt to it. His mother's necklace was hanging down from her neck. He felt a warm glow of satisfaction.

As the sun was setting, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione hefted their school trunks out into the front yard. Until the various spells protecting Godric's Hollow were removed, they would have to apparate outside the garden gate. Harry looked up at the cottage with a tug of remorse. This was the first summer that he could remember when going back to school was somewhat less appealing than staying where he was. Fred and George had accepted the task of looking in on the property for Harry while it was empty. Dobby would also make occasional cleaning trips. He had already left for Hogwarts. Dumbledore wanted him to continue recruiting elves for his castle defense group. Dobby was very pleased to shoulder the responsibility; although he was skeptical that he'd get them to agree to wear the red and green socks that he'd created to distinguish the group.

Fred and George helped the girls get their trunks into the road. Then the twins stood guard as Harry and Ron brought their trunks along too. Once they were all present, the entire group apparated, leaving only their footprints behind in the dust.


	7. A Different Hogwarts

**Chapter Six – A Different Hogwarts **

When Harry appeared outside the gates of Hogwarts, the first thing he saw was the huge form of Hagrid striding down the road toward them, wearing a broad smile. Harry glanced around and saw that everyone had arrived safely, including Ginny who looked pleased with herself. Fred and George still had their wands raised and were glancing around guardedly behind the group. "Let's get moving toward the gates shall we?" said Fred. They each grabbed hold of their trunks and began to heave them up the road.

Hagrid reached them and they all panted a greeting at him. "Good to see ya all made it alright," he said. "Just let them trunks lie. The house elves'll move em to the castle. You all just get inside those gates now."

As Hagrid spoke, Harry noticed that two tiny forms were standing near the gates. "Hagrid?" began Harry.

"Don't point at em, Harry. They don't like that a bit. Too conspicuous I guess," said Hagrid in a hoarse whisper.

"They're house elves," Harry said. Then he noticed these elves were wearing knitted caps and mismatched socks.

Hermione had noticed the elves too. "They have clothes, Hagrid," she remarked, excitement in her voice.

"Naw, it's their uniform. They say it's not the same as clothes," explained Hagrid still whispering. "They're dead set against the idea of taking clothes."

The elves looked very self-conscious standing guard at the gates, but having seen the power that Dobby was capable of, Harry felt comforted by their presence. A third elf came scurrying forward toward the trunks, which disappeared with a snap of his tiny fingers. Harry imagined the trunks were already in their proper places in Gryffindor Tower. Harry could see Hermione was bursting to question the elves. A look from Hagrid stopped her and her face fell a bit.

"Best leave em alone when they're on duty," explained Hagrid in a rough whisper.

"Do you see they are wearing clothes, Harry," she gushed. "It's a step!"

Harry decided not to start an argument and simply smiled.

Once they had crossed over into the castle grounds, Fred and George shook hands all around and made to leave. Harry called them away from the others and shook each of their hands again. "Thanks for everything," he said. "Thanks for staying the summer with me and all. It was the best summer I can remember."

"Harry, Harry," said George, "we were happy to do it."

Fred piped up, "Yes, except for your dismal performance with the fire whiskey…"

"Yes, you must improve your capacity, mate," George chimed in.

"We quite enjoyed ourselves at Godric's Hollow," finished Fred. "We'll keep an eye on the place for you, too." Harry grinned at them both as they headed back through the gates.

The twins had cleared the gates a moment later and called back in unison, "Say hello to Bill for us," then they vanished with a pop.

"What?" said Ron in an annoyed voice. "What did that mean? They're always doing stuff like that! When exactly will we be seeing Bill?"

Ron sputtered about this all the way up to the castle. Harry, however, was too busy enjoying the sites and smells of the grounds to pay much attention. Hogwarts felt like a comfortable old friend as Harry crossed the familiar lawn. Heavy clouds were filling the sky overhead and dusk was coming on swiftly as they stepped inside the front door. Harry felt a bit melancholy as his friends chatted away. He wondered if Ron and Hermione were thinking about the fact that this would be their last year of school.

The smell of cooking was wafting up from the kitchens and the warm light of the Great Hall beckoned them in. The sound of talking, and laughter was coming from inside the room. The din, however, was noticeably less than in any previous year in Harry's memory. The night of the arrival feast usually saw the Great Hall full of students with only a handful of spare seats available once the sorting was complete. Tonight, far fewer students were present, though it was hard to tell how many based on the general milling about.

As they stood in the doorway, Hermione looked shocked and seemed to be doing some calculations in her head. Ron whispered, "Blimey, there's hardly anyone here. Are we that early?" Ginny and Harry exchanged looks of concern.

The staff table held a row of sedate looking teachers. McGonagall was surveying the crowd of students and scanning a long roll of parchment that was spilling on to the floor from the table at which she sat. Occasionally Professor Sprout or Flitwick would point out a student to her and she would make a mark on the parchment with a long grey quill.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione approached the Gryffindor table and took seats. The Creevey brothers hurried over and started talking to them. Harry swept his gaze over to the Slytherin table where he caught the eye of Theodore Nott, who raised his eyebrows then gave Harry the barest hint of a nod.

Neville was talking to some Ravenclaws across the room from them. He looked well and had grown several inches over the summer to Harry's eye. He checked the crowd for his other dorm mates, and found that Dean and Seamus were both missing. Harry realized that the muggle born students would have a decidedly harder time making their way back to school if they could not apparate. Seamus should have been able to get to school easily, but he had never returned last year after the attack on his family. Harry glanced at Ginny. Mac had taught her in two days how to apparate and had tested her pretty well from the sound of things.

Ginny had it from her father that the Underage Magic Department personnel at the Ministry were doubling up in other departments right now as the effort to cover-up Voldemort's activities and to placate the wizarding population over his attacks was expanding steadily each day. Mr. Weasley felt it was highly unlikely that they would even be aware of an underage wizard apparating, yet he warned her in a letter to stay with the group and not to try apparating alone until she was on age.

There was much talk all around them about how each person had traveled to school. The Creevey brothers had been brought via a very long car ride, to Hogsmeade. They had walked the rest of the way. Their father, a muggle, was appalled at the site of the castle, being unable to see anything but a moldy old ruin. He was assured by his sons that the real castle was very nice indeed, and he was finally convinced to leave them there.

For the most part, the wizard born students had arrived by floo in Hogsmeade. It had not been difficult to get a time slot. Apparently several families had petitioned the Ministry for portkeys and been denied. The Ministry, it seemed, wanted nothing to do with the transportation of children to school.

More students were straggling in as the sky reflected within the Great Hall turned dark and rain began to pelt the windows outside. Harry glanced at his watch as he talked to Ernie Macmillan who was going on about how incensed his parents were with the Ministry's stand on Hogwarts. The feast should be starting soon, thought Harry. No sooner he had realized this then Albus Dumbledore entered the room from the entrance hall and strode purposefully up toward the staff table.

Harry looked across and noticed Draco Malfoy was missing. He was about to point this out to Ron when the door opened at the far end of the Hall and Hagrid strode in holding Malfoy by the arm. He walked Draco to the Hufflepuff table and instructed him to sit down. Draco looked up at him maliciously, wrenching his arm free. However, he sat where he was placed. Harry noticed he was not wearing the Slytherin colors but a plain black tie with his robes. Ron nearly hooted with laughter at the sight, but restrained himself at a look from Hermione. "But it's so funny," he complained. Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Malfoy looks like he just ate slugs."

"He can't be happy, can he," said Hermione, "I mean, he isn't in a house anymore. At least Dumbledore allowed him to stay at school and finish his education, though."

Harry wondered at the wisdom of this. Wasn't an angry Draco Malfoy worse than a cocky Draco Malfoy? Wouldn't sending Malfoy away have been the best plan of all?

Dumbledore reached the front of the room and cleared his throat. That was all that was required to get the students to take seats and fall silent. Once the scraping of chairs subsided, huge gaps existed at all the tables, making the room look rather like an unpopular sporting event.

"Welcome," boomed Dumbledore enthusiastically, as though he was nothing but pleased to see them all. "Welcome to a new school year at Hogwarts."

"As you will have noticed, our ranks are somewhat thinner than normal. Events in the wizarding world have kept many of our regular students at home, at this time. Hogwarts will welcome any latecomers with open arms. The staff will, of course respect the decisions of any students or parents who decide that home is a better environment for this year."

"Our staff stands ready to offer you the same fine education that you have received in the past. Indeed, I am sure that you will find you will receive much more individualized instruction this year, owing to smaller class sizes."

Dumbledore stopped and peered over his half-moon spectacles at the up turned faces. "Please, would everyone stand?" A hundred or so chairs scuffed the floor. "Now, if you all would move forward and fill in all the empty seats, please...toward the front," he coaxed, motioning them toward him with a benign smile. "Thank you, and be seated," he said.

Gryffindor Tower normally held about seventy students by Harry's reckoning. There were only about twenty Gryffindors present. However, their table was full compared to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who had no more than fifteen students each. Slytherin appeared to be the best represented. They had about twenty-five students. Bunching together made the gathering seem even smaller, if that was possible. As Harry suspected, the hall was but one quarter full. Although many students had left last year after the disastrous attack on the Quidditch match, it was nothing compared to the number of students who had chosen to stay away this term.

Dumbledore waved his hand and the empty house tables at the back vanished from the room. "We may as well be cozy, if nothing else," said Dumbledore. Harry could not help noticing Draco Malfoy sitting at the very end of the Hufflepuff table glaring at the two giggling and curly-headed third year girls seated next to him. Harry felt a desire to laugh but restrained himself as Dumbledore spoke again, "There is real danger in the world just now. Voldemort is trying his best to gain followers but more than that, he is engaged in a campaign of terror and destruction. I see before me the faces of students who have lost loved ones to this campaign. You can do your part in stifling Voldemort, by learning well the lessons your teachers give you and thereby becoming formidable foes of the powers of darkness, that threaten all humans; wizard and muggle alike. It is not possible to remain neutral. Each of us must choose." The silence in the room was complete.

Dumbledore continued, a lighter tone in his voice, "We will be keeping to our curriculum of last year and holding an all day lesson every Friday on Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It will be taught, in turn, by various professors and guest speakers. One half of each Friday's lesson will be set aside for dueling practice. We feel that much emphasis needs to be placed in this most important area. Professor Bill Weasley will coordinate this effort. Professor Weasley is well suited to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts as he has been working until recently, as a curse beaker for Gringotts bank. I think you will find him very knowledgeable."

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had all looked up at this announcement, mouths hanging open in surprise. None of them had known Bill was going to teach. Neither Mac nor Bill was sitting at the staff table. They all looked questioningly at each other as Dumbledore continued. "Professor MacNessa has kindly agreed to teach Potions this year, until a permanent replacement can be found."

"This term we are going to replace a few courses which we have offered at Hogwarts, lo these many years. Divination will no longer be offered and the same will go for Care of Magical Creatures. These courses will be set aside in favor of a new course that we are calling Magical Beings: An Overview. This course will involve coming to know all of our magical brethren and understanding the nature of their particular magic. It is high time we promoted better relations between all magical beings. Professor Lupin, who some of you may remember, has consented to teach the course with the help of Professor Hagrid and Professor Firenze. The course will cover all magical beings from wizards themselves to the smallest Billywig. I am sure you will find it a fascinating course of study."

All the students were listening intently. There were certainly a lot of changes planned, Harry thought. He was eager to see Lupin too, and wondered if the Ministry had approved his re-hiring. Dumbledore continued, "Each house may hold their Quidditch try-outs next week. I have convinced the house elves to provide protection to the Quidditch pitch whenever any team chooses to practice and for all matches we hold. We will however, NOT be allowing any outside spectators this year, I can assure you."

Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They had been concerned that after what had transpired the previous year, Quidditch would not be allowed at all. Ron opened his mouth to comment but before he could begin to say anything, Dumbledore had moved on to his next point, "Mr. Filch has asked me to remind students that all items purchased from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are banned from the castle. He claims the list is now far too long to enumerate. And as always, the Forest is out of bounds to students, unless accompanied by a teacher. The centaurs will not kill you on site, but you could be taken hostage and as it is a long walk in for a rescue team, I ask that you abide by this rule."

Dumbledore paused and turned to look down the staff table, "Now, Professor McGonagall, I think we can proceed with the Sorting Ceremony."

McGonagall came forward with the stool and the hat. Then she beckoned toward the back of the room and one small boy Harry had not noticed, seated on a chair near the door, got up and walked sheepishly forward. When the boy reached the front of the room looking very embarrassed, McGonagall put a kindly hand on his shoulder and set the hat upon the stool. The rip in the brim opened and the hat began to sing.

_I have not much to say,_

_To this small assembled lot._

_Look carefully around you,_

_Protect the friends you've got._

The hat went silent and everyone stared. Was that it? Never had Harry heard it sing so short a song. McGonagall raised an eyebrow and seemed to decide the hat was finished. She called the boy, Robert Parker, forward and placed the hat on his head as he looked up, face full of fear. After a second or two, the hat called out "Ravenclaw" and he scurried off to the Ravenclaw table. All the students with the exception of the Slytherins applauded graciously.

As Professor McGonagall removed the stool and the hat, Mac and Bill Weasley entered the room and walked purposefully to the staff table, talking together amiably as they went, with Bill still sporting an earring with a fang and dragon hide boots. When he reached his seat, Bill waved down at them and winked.

"I can't believe he'll be teaching," said Ginny in wonder.

"He should have some very interesting stories to tell, don't you think?" said Hermione. She looked around the room. "He's easily the best looking of all the teachers, isn't he?"

Ron scowled at her. "What's that supposed to mean? Do you fancy Bill?"

"Oh Ron!" she replied. "Don't be so…so jealous all the time." Ron mouthed the word _jealous? _as she continued, "Look around," she whispered. Harry turned in his seat and he saw what Hermione meant. Many of the girls were staring up at Bill with rather dreamy looks on their faces.

The dinner appeared on the tables just then, taking Harry's mind off looks the girls were giving Ron's elder brother. The feast was fabulous as always. As the main course disappeared and the pudding materialized, Dumbledore rose again. "I have a few more announcements," he began. "You may have noticed that no new prefects were appointed this year and that no head boy or girl has been announced. This was due to the problem of who would be returning to school this term. I am pleased to see that we have a few perfects present from each house and that will serve us for the year. I am appointing Mr. Ernie Macmillan and Miss Hermione Granger to be the head boy and girl. Please give them your support." There was polite clapping and Hermione turned red with embarrassment and pride. "Professor McGonagall and I will meet with the perfects and the head boy and girl as soon as they have seen their house-mates off to their dormitories."

As everyone was rising to leave the Great Hall, McGonagall called to Ginny who hung back, waiting for the other students to pass so she could reach the staff table. McGonagall pointed her toward the antechamber at the back of the room. Harry, who had been waiting for Ginny, looked at her questioningly. She mouthed, "wait for me," and disappeared through the side door.

Harry loitered near the staff table as the Great Hall emptied. It only took a minute until he was alone. He looked up at the ceiling but no stars were visible, just blackness. After about five minutes, Harry heard voices, and the door to the antechamber opened. Ginny said, "He's here, Sir."

Dumbledore emerged from the room and spoke to Harry in a low voice, "Harry, Ginny and I have been discussing the Mark of Domination. I have explained to her that now she's back to school the danger of the mark re-appearing is significantly greater than at Godric's Hollow."

Harry glanced at Ginny who was looking at him intently. Dumbledore continued, "I had offered to put Madam Pomfrey in charge of checking for the mark each day, but Miss Weasley is averse to dragging more people into the situation. She felt she could handle it herself, but I was forced to disagree." Dumbledore looked down his crooked nose at Harry. "She…" he began, but Ginny interrupted him.

"Harry, I'd rather have you checking then anyone else. You already know all about it," Ginny said matter-of-factly. "So…would you?" she asked.

Harry looked at each of them, "Sure," he said.

He was surprised at how relieved Ginny looked.

Dumbledore glanced at each of them in turn. "It may be difficult to arrange this," he said. "While you are certainly capable Harry, you will need to be quite diligent and I must ask that you report anything unusual to me immediately. Can you two manage this?"

"We can take care of it," said Harry confidently.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Then I'm off to talk to the perfects." He began to walk toward the doors, but turned suddenly. "By the way, the new password to Gryffindor tower is _Toadstool,_" he said with a grin.

As Harry and Ginny left the Great Hall, Ginny stopped and turned to face Harry. "Thanks," she said.

"You might have been better off with Madam Pomfrey, you know," said Harry. "I mean, I'm no healer," said Harry taking the fingers of her hand in his.

"I just don't want someone worrying over me constantly," said Ginny. "I hate it when I think people are pitying me," she said, her voice trailing off.

"I worry about you!" said Harry defensively.

"Yes," Ginny said, now smiling at him, "But you don't treat me like I'm some sort of invalid. I don't want loads of people feeling sorry for me." Harry raised his eyebrows. He was glad she had not been able to see how worried he had been about her the night she arrived at Godric's Hollow all bruised and unconscious.

"Ok," said Harry. "We'll handle it ourselves then."

Ginny put her arms around Harry and he hugged her. "I'm not letting that scum Malfoy control me, Harry," she said into his chest.

Harry kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. He hoped for her sake, that she would never have to be tested. Ginny gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and they headed for Gryffindor Tower, hand in hand.

Outside Gryffindor Tower, they ran into Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley who were approaching the Fat Lady's portrait. Arthur turned when he heard them approach. "Ginny! Harry! Good to see you!"

Mrs. Weasley gave a small scream and flung herself onto Ginny, her eyes filling with tears. "I just had to see you for myself," she panted. "I had to check that you were really all right! I couldn't bear having you back at school after that attack and not seeing you for myself." Mrs. Weasley backed off, holding Ginny's hands and looking her over carefully.

"Oh, mum," said Ginny. "Don't fuss so much. I'm fine." Harry knew Ginny was pleased to see her mother, what ever else she said.

"And Harry, dear!" she exclaimed pulling Harry into a huge hug. "You saved my baby-girl. Dumbledore told me all about it. It was so very lucky you were there, dear. First Arthur, now Ginny. You just keep saving the day, Harry," she gushed.

Harry looked down at his shoes, "Dumbledore just told me what to do and I tried to follow his orders is all." He wanted to avoid being questioned further about that night, so he crossed to the Fat Lady and gave the password. She swung open, and Harry led the way in.

"Mum, how are you?" asked Ginny as they all clambered inside.

"I'm as good as new. Madam Pomfrey is amazing. She sorted me out in no time," explained Mrs. Weasley. Harry knew this was not strictly true, and that Mrs. Weasley had been in the hospital wing for at least three weeks, but she did appear her same old self. "Ron!" she exclaimed and she hurried over to hug her youngest son who now towered over her. Ron smiled at her as she gave him a kiss on his cheek. Then she turned once more to Ginny, asking her at least ten questions at once.

Mr. Weasley motioned Harry away from his wife and daughter. "Harry you did a remarkable thing, fighting that particular curse. According to Dumbledore, it was very strong. We're all hoping that Malfoy doesn't try to bring it back."

"Me too, sir," said Harry who wanted to change the subject. "How is Mrs. Weasley?" he asked.

"Molly was in a very bad way after the attack on the Burrow. She was hit by at least six stunners and most of them to the head. We didn't know if she would survive for the first few days. Then I was also worried about Ginny…" Arthur Weasley's voice trailed off and he looked away.

Harry simply nodded while Mr. Weasley watched his wife and daughter. In a few minutes, the elder Weasley's took their leave, saying they wanted a word with Bill.

That night, the few residents of Gryffindor Tower assembled in the common room to discuss the general state of affairs. Few of the students knew anything about Bill Weasley and were asking Ron and Ginny if their brother was likely to give lots of homework. Ginny just laughed. "I have no idea," she said.

"He looks really cool," said Parvati in a dreamy voice. "I absolutely love his hair."

Hermione rolled her eyes, causing Harry have to suppress a laugh.

Ron was keen to discuss a strategy for the Quidditch team and was talking to various people about the try-outs. Since neither Kirke nor Sloper had returned yet, it was likely they would needed beaters. Natalie had returned and Colin was as excited to play as ever. Ron was eager to begin practice and thought their chances were very good of winning the house cup with the diminished numbers of students in the other houses. Harry had to agree. They still had most of their players from last year. Slytherin would certainly be able to field a team, although without Draco Malfoy. Hufflepuff had lost its entire team and Ravenclaw only had two returning players, according to Ron.

The Gryffindors were surprised when Bill Weasley climbed through the portrait hole and said a casual greeting to the assembled crowd around eleven PM. "Don't mind me," he said jauntily, "I just wanted to reminisce. This place really brings back memories!" Harry noticed quite a few of the girls blushing and staring at Bill.

Ginny made room next to her on the sofa and Bill sat down. Harry knew Bill was probably her favorite brother, and that she looked up to him. Bill dropped into the seat and began talking animatedly with Ginny and Ron.

"What made you decide to teach this year?" asked Hermione as she perched on the edge of the sofa next to Ron.

"Dumbledore can be quite persuasive," he said with a smile. Then he lowered his voice so that only the four of them could hear and said, "The Order wants more protection around the castle just now."

"So have you given up working at the bank then?" asked Ginny.

"I've taken a leave. Griphook, my boss, was not pleased at all, but he can see the lay of the land too. The goblins are still hoping to stay neutral but they will probably have to choose a side eventually. The idiots at the Ministry are not making it easy for the goblins to come over to our side. They insist on enforcing old and out dated regulations that date back to the goblin rebellion of seventeen ninety-two. As they control most of the wizard gold, the Ministry will be in a real spot if they side with Voldemort."

Bill stayed for about an hour, catching up with his brother and sister, then left again with a wave to the students still hanging around the common room. The excitement over, everyone climbed up the stairs to their dormitory rooms, and bed.

The first day of classes proved to be interesting. Professor Sprout was bustling along the very short lines of tables depositing schedules for all the students. Some classes were so small that they were not being held in a classroom, but in the professor's office. Some of the NEWT level classes were that way. The first and second years were all being grouped together, regardless of house.

Harry looked over his own schedule and grinned a bit. He still had Transfiguration, Charms and Herbology, but he also had two hours with Mac each day for his auror training and an hour each day with Dumbledore, except for Friday's when he would have Defense Against the Dark Arts with the rest of the school. As he had signed up for Care of Magical Creatures, he was now assigned to the Magical Beings class.

He was surprised to see that Dumbledore was planning to work with him four days a week even though he knew that he needed as much training and practice as was possible. He felt in his gut that it wouldn't be very much longer until he was forced to face Voldemort and try to kill him. The thought of this always raised a feeling of panic in him that seemed to move from his stomach up into his chest. He found that he could only suppress it by turning his mind elsewhere.

Professor McGonagall was now making her way around the room and laying copies of the Daily Prophet on each of the house tables. Harry spoke to her as she dropped a copy between him and Ron. "Professor, what are these for?" he asked.

"Well, Potter, the headmaster feels that it's important to keep students abreast of the latest news, whether it's accurate or not. He will be making an announcement in a moment," she replied as she strode off with her papers.

Once Professor McGonagall had distributed all her papers, she returned to sit at the staff table. Dumbledore broke off his conversation with Professor Flitwick and rose at his place, giving a small cough, which brought the room to attention. "You will undoubtedly have noticed the newspapers that have been placed on the tables. I feel it important that we have an open forum this year about the events outside our walls. We are, none of us, exempt from the reality of the wider world. While you may feel safe here within the castle, as you should, still the return of Voldemort affects each of you deeply. I have subscribed to the Daily Prophet as a way to bring the news in, so that every one of you can be aware of what is going on. We will have a sort of discussion period one evening per week, once pudding is served, during which you may ask questions or make comments on recent news articles. The teachers and I will try to help make sense out of the information you are receiving. Please feel free to participate." With that, Dumbledore took a seat and began to pile sausages on his plate.

Hermione spoke first, "I think that's a really good idea. We can all discuss the issues and ask questions. It'll be just like dinner at home," she said brightly.

The Dursleys had never invited comments from Harry about current affairs. Mostly Uncle Vernon had just complained about everything he heard on the news and they all had to listen. Or at least Harry had to pretend to listen. Dudley never bothered even pretending, as he was never interested in anything unless it was entertaining.

Harry slid one of the copies of The Daily Prophet towards him. The headline did nothing to quell his worries about the state of affairs. It seemed that a large number of funny deaths were being reported at St. Mungo's Hospital; more than could be accounted for from the various illnesses of the patients who had died. The hospital seemed reluctant to comment, but family members reported grave suspicions about the wizard hospital. Harry squinted at the article.

_Derrick Bywater, whose brother was hospitalized after getting in the way of a badly aimed hex, was set for release on Saturday. Mr. Bywater states that his brother was fully recovered, but when he arrived to collect his brother, Mr. Bywater was told his brother had passed away. "He was mounting a campaign to set up a home security check system. He reckoned that wizards should be trying to protect themselves from Voldemort's followers and he wanted to organize families to watch out for each other," explained the grieving Mr. Bywater. "And now he's dead, and they won't tell what happened and they say I can't have his body back." A Ministry spokesperson said that the hospital is perfectly safe and there is no reason to fear going in for treatment. _

Harry scowled. He knew St. Mungos' was a Death Eaters stronghold, having escaped from it with Neville only a few month's ago. Scanning the rest of the Prophet, Harry felt frustration. The Daily Prophet seemed of two minds. It was not supporting the Ministry line, which was to assure the readers that everything was under control, but it resisted seeking out the truth too. There were loads of reports of Voldemort and Death Eater sightings, but very little to do with actually tracking them down and capturing them.

Breakfast was rather quiet as a much smaller number of students were present in the Great Hall. Owls swooped in and delivered quite a few letters, probably from anxious parents who wanted to keep in touch. An unfamiliar owl swooped in low and dropped a letter expertly into Ginny's lap, before soaring back out of the room. She read it through and passed it to Ron. "The letter is from Fred," she said leaning toward Harry. "According him, Diagon Alley is now being locked down, and everyone will have to submit to a search before entering it. As though that will stop anything," she said. Harry knew The Daily Prophet had not reported this bit of news.

When breakfast was finished, Harry, Ron and Hermione said goodbye to Ginny and set off for Transfiguration, their first class of the day. As they walked along the first floor corridor, which was not at all crowded as it would have been in past years, Harry saw Lupin step out of a door Harry had never been through.

He spotted Harry at once. "Hello Harry," he said coming forward and shaking Harry's hand. "How are all of you?" he asked, smiling.

"Fine," said Harry.

"From what I hear, you all had quite an….um… interesting holiday," he said looking at them. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "I understand you two had a rather close call."

Ron nodded while Hermione blushed. "Ya, if it weren't for Tonks that night, we'd have been in the same boat as Ginny, I expect."

"Well, good thing she was there then," said Lupin brightly. "I expect I'll be seeing you all later." He set off in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry turned toward the door from which Lupin had emerged. "Where does that go?" he asked.

"Never mind that now, Harry. We'll be late for McGonagall if we don't hurry," said Hermione warningly, and they sprinted down the hall and into the Transfiguration Department.

As this was to be their NEWT year, the teachers were quick to point out in each class how much studying would be required of them and how they needed to make a firm commitment to each subject they were taking as it would effect their futures. Harry was glad when he finally entered the Room of Requirement after lunch, to meet with Mac and Dumbledore. This room had served him well over the years. Right now, it looked very similar to the way it looked when he had led the D.A. He dropped his bag and walked along the sides of the room, scanning the books in the shelves. A click of the door latch brought him around to attention. Mac and Dumbledore came in together, chatting amiably.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, "Lets sit and talk for a moment, shall we?" Harry walked toward them as Dumbledore drew up three comfortable chairs using his wand.

Once they were seated, Dumbledore cleaned the lens of his half-moon spectacles and began, "Harry, you will notice that we have blocked off three hours a day in your schedule for training with myself and with Professor MacNessa. Although this is an excellent room for training, I would prefer we use the workroom, which we used last year. We are less likely to be detected there or discovered by accident. I think your training of the utmost importance and I want it to be undisturbed. Professor MacNessa and I possess a difference of opinion as to what will serve you best in a battle with Voldemort. Professor MacNessa believes that dueling skills will keep you alive. I do not doubt this, but I believe it will be the wielding of your elemental spells that will ultimately subdue Voldemort. We would like you to work, therefore on speed and endurance in dueling. Keeping clear of the spells of others while placing yourself in a position to use your air spell. In addition, you must work very hard on controlling your air spell…"

"Sir," interrupted Harry, "a book in the Department of Mysteries called it Aeriusorum."

"I'm impressed Harry, very well then, _Aeriusorum_, the control of which is extremely important. If you can not control the outcome, you can not hope to overcome Voldemort."

They rose from their chairs, so Harry did too. "You may have the rest of the time off for today Harry and we will begin with vigor tomorrow. You may go straight through to the workroom, where we will join you." Dumbledore left the room with a wave to them.

Harry and Ron had discussed their plan in private to practice the elemental spells by linking their magic. They were going to look out for a place to do it one night this week after everyone else was in bed. Harry smiled to himself. It was good to have one secret that wasn't being managed by the Order.

Mac put a hand on Harry's shoulder, snapping him back to the present. "I'd like you to brew the werewolf potion for your Mr. Lupin. I have translated the entire thing and I've double and triple checked it. It will take an entire moon cycle to make, even using the aging spell."

"But sir," began Harry, "do you think I'm good enough to make something that… important?" He did not want to be responsible for turning Lupin permanently into a toad, or something.

"Harry, you are as good a potions maker as I've seen. You simply need experience and confidence in yourself. I'll be there the entire time. There is just one thing remaining to do. Before we actually begin, we'll get an expert opinion…shall we? Meet me in the entrance hall tonight at midnight and bring your invisibility cloak. All right?"

Harry had no idea what Mac was on about, or where they were going to get an expert opinion, but he nodded his head automatically. What kind of year was this going to be, thought Harry? It was only the end of the first day of school, and already he was planning to be out of bounds at night.


	8. Expert Opinions

Chapter Seven – Expert Opinion

At ten minutes to midnight, Harry climbed carefully from his four-poster. The dormitory room was pitch-black. Because he had no idea where he and Mac were going, Harry had gotten into bed hours earlier, fully clothed, while Ron and Neville were still downstairs. It would save time later, he thought. Harry had placed his invisibility cloak under his pillow and he pulled it on now. He stuck his wand in his pocket and pushed his feet into his trainers. Then he quietly snuck down to the deserted common room. He had a twinge of guilt at not confiding in Ron and the others about this midnight trip, but he thought it could wait until he knew what it was all about. There was no telling what Mac had in mind. Harry pushed open the portrait, climbed through, then headed for the entrance hall.

Mac was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Harry cleared his throat and Mac smiled. "Good boy," he whispered, staring past Harry and a bit off to the right. "Stay under that cloak of yours, follow me, and don't say anything."

Mac led the way along the corridor. They passed several darkened classrooms, and then he stopped before the door that Lupin had emerged from on two occasions now.

"Mac," Harry whispered, "where does this go?"

Mack put a finger to his lips and winked in a very Fred and George way. Harry felt sure that wherever it went, they weren't supposed to be going there. The door had a small brass plate on it that said, _Private._ Mac touched his wand to the lock, and Harry heard a click as the door swung open. Inside the door was a small landing and steps spiraling down. Torches burned at intervals in brackets set into the smooth stone wall, as the steps wound out of site.

Mac started down the stairs, with Harry close behind. After ten steps or so, Harry glanced back up toward the door. The whole thing gave off the feeling of strength and security, but also made him feel there was no escape, but straight back the way they had come.

After what seemed like at least fifty steps, Mac halted and signaled Harry to stop. He whispered even lower than before, "Stay under the cloak no matter what, and don't make any noise." It certainly seemed important to Mac that he, Harry remain unseen. Harry was both intrigued and apprehensive, as Mac continued downward, now allowing his own footfalls to ring rather loudly on the stone steps.

A familiar voice boomed up the stairs, "Who goes there?" It sounded like Remus. Harry slowed and made a point to step very carefully.

"Me, Lupin, just me," said Mac offhandedly.

Harry had now arrived at the foot of the stairs, and saw Mac facing Remus in a round room not much larger than Dumbledore's office. The room was brightly lit, bare of any furniture, with several doors and rooms leading off from it.

"I thought you might be Bill. What brings you down here, Conner?" asked Remus in concern. "You know Dumbledore doesn't want anyone giving away this location."

"I was careful, Lupin," said Mac in a placating tone. "Are you expecting Bill?" he asked, changing the subject.

Remus was stowing his wand, "Dumbledore said he might be moving in more gold from the Order members' vaults at Gringotts."

"Ahh!" said Mac with interest.

Remus continued, "Bill was telling Dumbledore the other night, that soon we'll need our own dragon to guard it." He laughed and waved a hand toward one of the doorways. "I'm sure we could store your gold here as well. Bill could arrange to move it," said Remus.

"I've made my own arrangements, but thank you," said Mac.

"What can I do for you, Conner?" asked Lupin.

"I was working late, and I simply had a potions question, so I thought I'd come consult an expert. I mean, why not, after all?" said Mac.

What was Mac talking about, thought Harry? Lupin was no good at potions. Why, Snape had to make the wolfsbane potion _for_ him, because he…._wait a minute_, he thought.

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt. He's in there," said Lupin pointing to a door directly opposite. "You'll need this," Lupin handed Mac a key ring. "He's manacled to the floor, of course," said Lupin. "But be very careful."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine," said Mac confidently.

"If you think you can manage on your own, I'll just go finish a letter I was writing."

"I can manage, certainly," said Mac, with a bit too much of a grin Harry thought. He jangled the key ring and walked across the circular room to the door Lupin had indicated. Lupin sidled back toward an opening, through which Harry could see a small room with a table where several candles illuminated some parchment and a quill.

Harry realized he had been holding his breath, so as not to miss hearing the conversation. He let it out slowly and crept down the last step hurrying to catch up with Mac who was now unlocking a great heavy wooden door. Mac pushed it open and allowed Harry time to squeeze into the passage beyond before closing it. Harry's heart was hammering. He was fairly sure now what he was about to see. Beyond the first door was a short passage and another similar wooden door, but this one had a barred window in it. Mac strode forward saying loudly, "You have a visitor, and I'd like a word with you."

Harry thought he heard a grunt of anger or disgust from behind the door. Mac, however, gave a short laugh. "I am sure to prove more entertaining than anything else _you_ have to do just now!" With that, he unlocked and wrenched open the next door, then slipped inside, shutting it before Harry could get in.

Harry moved up to the barred window just as a very familiar and icy voice said, "What is it you want, MacNessa?" Harry nearly swore as he saw the form of Severus Snape sprawled on a chair inside. "Come to gloat?"

"Ahhh…Severus….so much talent, but such unwise choices you've made," said Mac casually.

"That remains to be seen, MacNessa," replied Snape coolly.

"Well, I'd love to debate that point, but I have business with you and I'm sure we'd both like to be away from each others company as soon as possible." Mac began pulling a piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes. He handed it to Snape, who paused and then took it, but did not look at it.

"That parchment," began Mac, "contains perhaps the greatest potions find in a century, Snape. You have in your hands a copy of the original potion taken from an old book that found its way into my hands, and a copy of my translation of the potion into English. However there are one or two points on which I require your expert advice."

Harry could see in Snape's eyes that he was interested, but that he wished to appear bored. "What of it?" asked Snape. "Why should I help you?"

Mac smiled indulgently. "I am here to make a bit of a deal with you. I'll give you this parchment; the recipe for the potion, which I assure you, will be quite valuable, once tested. All you need do is check it over and help me work out the bits I'm unsure about." Mac strolled around the cell slowly, stepping over the chain binding Snape's ankle to a ring in the floor, watching Snape as he went.

Snape sniffed, and unfolded the parchment slowly as though bored. Harry knew of course that the parchment had to be the werewolf cure. There were two papers folded together, which Snape smoothed out. Harry recognized the one as the page from the book they had lifted from the Department of Mysteries. The other must be Mac's translated copy. Snape studied them, indifferently at first, then with much greater interest. He looked back and forth between them his dark eyes narrowing.

Harry was annoyed that Mac had shared the formula with this traitor, and he wasn't sure what good it would do. He suddenly realized he had his hand upon his wand. Surely, Snape would go out of his way to steer them wrong. The thought of this, coupled with the closeness of this known enemy made Harry want to throw off his cloak and curse Snape into oblivion. His hand tightened around his wand.

"It seems perfectly fine, MacNessa," said Snape finally, in a silky voice.

"You don't say," said Mac as he stopped behind Snape's chair.

"I think you've got it right, actually," said Snape smoothly. "I suppose you'll be giving it to Lupin then?"

With lightening speed, Mac whipped out his wand and said "Petrificus Totalus!" turning the potions master rigid as stone. Harry whipped around, but apparently, Lupin had not heard. Then Mac produced a vial from within his robes, and walked around to face Snape. "I have here the very potion, Severus…just as written there." He tapped the parchment still locked in Snape's hand, with the point of his wand. "If it is safe, then you won't mind swallowing some right now, will you. Since you are not a werewolf, the potion should be harmless to you, according to the text." Mac advanced toward Snape uncorking the vial. Snape's eyes widened in terror and he blinked rapidly, as though trying desperately to communicate.

Mac pointed his wand at Snape and said "Finite." Then he stepped back. "Something you'd like to say, Severus?"

"Damn you!" spat Snape who made a show of readjusting his robes. Then he muttered, "The dragon's blood….it should be three drops, then stir three times, followed by the asphodel, _before_ adding the black adder venom, otherwise it could become rather… toxic."

"Excellent suggestion," said Mac with a laugh. He pocketed the vial. "I'll be back to test the new batch on you, Severus, so are there any other changes you'd like to suggest at this time?"

Snape sneered, "No," and turned away from MacNessa, crushing the parchment in his fist.

"I can't say it's been a pleasure, Severus, but treating with traitors seldom is," said Mac, as he unlocked the door and closed it behind him. "See you again once the new potion is done." Then he walked back toward the circular room in a completely unhurried fashion. Harry stood for a moment staring at Snape. Once Mac's back was turned, he had un-crumpled the parchment and began studying it again with relish.

Harry hurried to slip back out through the door before Mac locked it again. He stared at the door to Snape's cell while Mac returned the key ring to Lupin. Snape had been here the entire time. _Right here in the castle!_

A few minutes later, they were at the top to the stairs and Harry removed and stowed his invisibility cloak in his pocket. "Do you trust Snape?" asked Harry incredulously.

"I _trust_ that Snape doesn't want to be poisoned," said Mac warily. "I'll test the final potion on a rat first and then we'll give it to Remus Lupin, if he agrees." Mac headed back toward his office.

"But Mac…" began Harry, trotting up behind him and now feeling very concerned.

"Look young Harry," whispered Mac, "I was very sure I had the potion right, and now I know I made a correct translation. I made a deliberate mistake on the parchment I gave to Snape. That was the one mistake he found and pointed out to me. I expected he'd try to lead us wrong, the greasy git."

"But, sir?" said Harry. "Is that the actual potion… in that bottle?"

"This?" scoffed Mac, holding up the small crystal vial. "This is weak tea." He pocketed it with a laugh. So, Harry thought, it was just a trick.

Seeing Snape like that was still a shock from which Harry was attempting to recover. He'd never imagined that the Order were holding him right here, at Hogwarts. Certainly everyone always said how safe Hogwarts was. Just to have something to say, Harry replied, "You think we can go ahead with the potion and give it to Remus then?"

"Yes, I do. But not only your Mr. Lupin, boy. There are many werewolves out there. They suffer torment and prejudice and with this potion, they can be returned to normal. This find, boy, will save many honest men from pain and discrimination." Mac was very excited. "We'll brew it in the room off my classroom, down in the dungeon. I recommend we keep the entire thing quiet until it's ready. Do you agree?"

Harry nodded automatically without really hearing what Mac was saying. Then the question pierced through the murky haze that Snape had caused in his brain. "No wait," he said. "Don't you think we should tell Remus what we're doing? I mean, he's going to have to decide if he wants to try it."

Mac stopped and seemed to consider. "I suppose you're right, young Harry. I was simply thinking that we wouldn't want it to become public knowledge. Perhaps you could ask your Mr. Lupin to come along with you on Friday afternoon and we can tell him what we have planned." Mac nodded to himself, "Yes, that will be fine, I'm sure." Then he started forward again.

Harry knew he should be happy they were on the right track to helping Remus, but he was having a difficult time shaking the image of Snape. What if he were able to get free?

"Um…Mac?" said Harry as they reached the entrance hall, "Do you think Snape is secure in that cell?"

Mac was scanning a copy of the page from the old book again as he walked, "Snape? Is he secure?" Mac looked up at him clearly not thinking about the man he had just hexed a few minutes before. "I believe he's under better control here than he would be in Azkaban. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," replied Harry. It was probably simply the shock of seeing Snape that was causing him to feel a twinge of anxiety. Somehow, knowing that Snape was here in the castle made him feel decidedly unsafe. Snape knew the castle well, and he was a traitor. Harry shook his head to clear the thought away. He tried to pick up the thread of what Mac was saying.

"….so we'll begin tomorrow night, right after dinner. We'll get the ingredients together so we have something to show Lupin at the end of the week."

"Yes, sure," responded Harry.

"Then, perhaps, a few Friday afternoons. I calculate it will take about two months to prepare. I'm very glad we checked it through with Snape. Whatever else he may be, he's still a damned fine potions maker. Well…goodnight then young Harry," said Mac with a smile and he strode off towards the dungeon and the potions department.

Harry wondered sometimes at the brash way Mac behaved, but he had to admit that no one in the Order would ever have shown him the location where Snape was being held. Seeing him locked up and under guard was oddly satisfying and seeing Mac get the better of Snape was even more satisfying. At the end of last term, Snape had managed to kidnap him and Neville too, depositing them in the clutches of Voldemort. They had narrowly escaped being killed and Harry, in a rage, had dueled with Snape. In the end, Dumbledore had finally conceded that Snape had betrayed the Order. No one had been willing to tell him what had been done with the potions master after that. Now Harry knew the secret.

As though drawn by a magnet, Harry by-passed the stairway back to Gryffindor tower and walked back down the silent hallway. He stopped in front of the door marked _Private_. He wanted, more than anything, to march straight back down stairs and finish the fight that Dumbledore had broken up several months before. It was fool-hearty, but Harry felt nothing but loathing and resentment toward the man who was supposed to be his teacher, and even more, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. A noise from the entrance hall made Harry flatten himself against the wall in the dark corridor and quickly pull on his invisibility cloak again. Then he recognized Bill Weasley, levitating a bunch of large leather pouches in front of him, and coming toward him down the dark corridor.

Harry gave Bill a wide berth, and hurried quickly and quietly toward the stairs. As he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, he knew he would have trouble falling asleep.

The next morning Harry was bursting to tell what he had seen and heard to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. He poked Ron awake very early.

"What's up," said Ron blearily.

"Get up," said Harry. "I've got something to tell you."

Ron climbed groggily from his bed, yawning, but was soon dressing. "So what is it?" he asked in a whisper. No sound was yet coming from behind Neville's bed curtains, and indeed, only a pale rim of pink on the horizon was heralding the morning outside the dormitory window.

Harry said, "Let's go downstairs."

Ron followed Harry down through the common room and out into the hallway. There was no one stirring yet. Harry began to tell Ron about his midnight meeting with MacNessa as they headed toward the Great Hall. "Blimey, Harry!" said Ron as he finished the story. "So he's right here in the castle, and they're all probably taking it in turns to guard him."

"That's what I think," said Harry. "I wish they'd give me turn at guard duty," he said angrily.

Ron seemed to sense danger. "Harry, it doesn't matter where he is. You have to forget about it. He's not your concern."

"Not my…Not my concern!" bellowed Harry. Ron shushed him and he lowered his voice. "He tried to get me killed and Neville as well."

"But Harry, Dumbledore has him locked up and he probably has a very good reason to keep him here. Maybe the Order can use him somehow," reasoned Ron.

"You sound exactly like Hermione," accused Harry. He did not want to accept the logic of Ron's statement. He had tossed and turned all night inventing elaborate ways he could re-pay Snape's betrayal, now that he knew where the man was.

When Hermione and Ginny finally joined them at the table for breakfast, Harry whispered that he wanted to tell them something once they had eaten. Ron watched him as though he was a time bomb.

They finished breakfast quickly and then they all followed Harry out into the cool courtyard, where a light mist was hanging in the air. Harry quickly told them about seeing Snape and the making of the potion for Lupin.

Ginny's mouth was open. "Snape is here in the castle?" She grimaced. "I guess there must be a reason, but even still…"

"Harry," began Hermione, "You wouldn't do anything stupid, like going after him, would you? I mean, he's properly locked up and under guard, isn't he?"

"No," said Harry, beginning to feel deflated. "I expect it's the most I can ask for. I was really upset when I saw him but I suppose it is safer here than at Azkaban, but… I'd really like to get my hands on him." Harry still wanted him to suffer.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny all looked at him. Ginny broke the silence. "Harry, I'd say leave it alone for now. I hate him too for what he did to you, but let the Order handle it."

They talked together for a few more minutes. Ron wondered aloud if his dad had known Snape's location. "He must have done," said Hermione. "Your dad and Dumbledore seem pretty close."

Ginny looked at her watch and jumped. "I have to be in the greenhouses in five minutes," she said. "I'll see you all later." She said before hurrying off.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had their first _Magical Beings: an Overview_ class today so they headed for Lupin's classroom. Hermione was rather unhappy, not with the new course offering but with the fact that no textbook had been assigned. She began complaining as soon as they left Ginny and continued until Ron turned the conversation around to Quidditch.

"Please take your seats," said Remus, looking up from his desk and smiling at them as they entered the room. He sounded tired and Harry noticed that he appeared pale. The last of the full moon had passed the previous night. Harry wondered who was making Remus's wolfsbane potion now that Snape was locked up. He decided to talk to Remus right after the lesson.

As Harry took his seat, he realized the class contained nearly all the seventh years. Remus took roll and then perched on the edge of his desk. "Many of you in this room come from wizard families, some do not. Regardless, I think you will find that you will learn a good deal in this class. We will be exploring the many and varied magical beings that inhabit our world. Notice I did not say "creatures" for we will be studying beings who walk and talk as we do, as well as those who do not."

Draco Malfoy, who was seated at the back of the room by himself, sneered "How interesting," in a very sarcastic voice. Everyone ignored him, making Ron smirk. Lupin did not look in his direction.

"We'll be studying the types of magic each being is able to use. We will be doing Elves, Giants, Vampires, and a host of other beings. Today, Professor Firenze will be taking the lesson and beginning our section on Centaurs." There was a clopping sound from the back of the room and Firenze walked proudly up the center aisle to the front of the room, his palomino tail swishing as he walked. Harry noticed that Hermione had her hand raised.

"Yes, Hermione?" said Remus.

"Sir, are there any assigned textbooks for this class?"

"I have decided against any _one_ book, Hermione," explained Lupin. "Most of the books available in print are highly inaccurate and told strictly from a wizard perspective. I am aiming for a much more authentic and objective picture of magical beings. I anticipate some hand-outs." Hermione looked crushed.

"How are we going to study properly," she hissed to Ron and Harry, who were happy not to have more books to tote around.

The lesson was quite interesting. Firenze began talking about the known history of the Centaurs and how they came to be in Britain. He was just getting around to explaining how Centaurs had interacted with wizards when the bell rang to end the class. Lupin stood up and walked to the front of the room. "Professor Firenze will continue with his lecture next time. For your assignment, prepare three questions about Centaurs that you would like answered."

The class was on its feet and collecting their bags, when Harry heard Firenze call his name. Harry looked at Firenze and smiled, making his way up to the front as the room emptied. "Hi, Firenze," he said.

"Harry Potter, it is good to see you again. The planets are not always correct and I am glad at times that it is so." Firenze looked him over critically. Harry was trying to make out what he had meant. "Please be very careful at this time, as you are in great danger and events are approaching the zenith. I myself will continue to hope that the stars have been misread," Firenze said with an encouraging look before he moved off toward the door.

"Uhh, Thanks," was all Harry could think to say. He felt rather disconcerted. Everywhere he turned there were warnings and reminders of his fate.

Harry turned and moved over to Remus who was packing up a satchel full of books. "Remus," said Harry, "I need to talk to you for a minute, if that's ok."

"Certainly, Harry," said Remus. He walked over to the window and Harry followed.

"Remus, the day we went to the Department of Mysteries, Mac and I found something we want to talk to you about. Could you come to the potions classroom on Friday afternoon?"

"Sounds very mysterious Harry," said Remus with a smile. "Yes, I can meet you then."

Harry smiled and set off for his next class. He was running late and he had just broken into a run when someone hailed him and he skidded to a halt.

"Harry! A word if you don't mind." It was Bill Weasley, calling to him from a classroom.

"Ummm...sure," said Harry, looking around. "It's only I'm running late for my next class."

"I'll give you a note," said Bill. He led the way into the classroom and closed the door. He indicated a chair and Harry sat down. Bill pulled another chair around and straddled it, sinking down and resting his arms on the back, facing Harry. "So what do you think of Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup this year?" asked Bill conversationally.

"Well it's a bit soon to tell, really. We'll be having try-outs on the weekend," Harry explained. "We have more experienced players returning than Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"Yes, well I'm looking forward to seeing some good flying from all of you. I may volunteer to act as referee," said Bill.

He paused, considering Harry. "Dad's told me very little about what's happening, but it doesn't take a lot to see that the Death Eaters want you pretty badly. I know some fairly remarkable jinxes Harry. Nothing I'll be showing this lot," he said waving his hand dismissively. "And frankly if anyone asks, I'll deny showing them to you...but...better to be well armed against the enemy, don't you think?"

"Sure…ya," said Harry. He was not sure where this was going exactly.

"Anyway, I thought we might strike a bit of a deal, Harry," he said. "I have it on very good authority that you ran a successful Defense Against the Dark Arts group in your fifth year. If you'd agree to help me manage the dueling classes on Friday, you know the kind of thing...walk amongst the students and correct their spells; I'd show you a few things that might come in handy some day."

Harry smiled broadly at Bill. "You want me to help in your class?" he asked.

"Why not?" asked Bill. "Dumbledore has already told me you needn't attend. He feels you are far advanced of the rest of the class."

Harry flushed. He hadn't known that Dumbledore thought him quite that good. He guessed the summer of intense practice had actually paid off.

"What do you say?"

"Bill, you're a curse breaker, and everything. You have loads of experience with defensive magic. I'm not sure I'll be much use to you," said Harry, expressing the doubt he felt.

"You are, apparently far beyond the rest of the students, by all accounts. Mac speaks quite highly of your dueling skills. Fred and George have shown me their bruises… and they are actually quite good," he chuckled and Harry grinned. "Still, teaching is a learning experience."

This was completely unexpected and Harry said "Sure," very slowly. "Only, Mac...I mean Professor MacNessa wanted me to help him the next few Fridays, in the afternoon." said Harry, thinking about the wolfsbane potion.

"Oh that's quite alright. I'll take you anytime you can make it," said Bill, smiling.

Harry nodded. He had enjoyed his hours teaching the D.A. members. "I'll check with Mac and see how long he needs me. I'd really like to help you."

"Great!" said Bill. He stood to leave. "And Harry, I admit I don't know why things keep happening to you, or why you're receiving extra attention from MacNessa, but I'm available to you anytime. If there is anything I can help you with..."

Harry flushed. "I…Uhh," he began.

Bill put up his hands. "No, I'm not asking you to tell me what's happening. I'm offering my help…if you need it." He reached out his hand to shake Harry's. Harry took it and smiled back. Bill jotted a quick note of excuse for him, and he hurried off to his next class.

Harry finally caught up with Ron and Hermione in Charms. Professor Flitwick smiled kindly at him when he handed in his note from Bill. Harry took a seat next to Ron at a table in the back of the room.

"What happened to you?" whispered Ron in an annoyed sort of way.

"First Firenze stopped me, then your brother," said Harry, pulling out his Charms textbook.

"What?" said Ron incredulously. "Bill?"

Harry shushed him. "I'll tell you later."

In the afternoon, Harry headed for the workroom that he now knew to be in the Hogshead Inn, in Hogsmeade. He knew he had to reach it by floo from Mac's old classroom and Harry wondered if the room had been turned over to Bill Weasley. As he stepped inside, he was met by both Mac and Dumbledore who were talking near the door to the study. They looked up as he approached.

"Harry, right on time I see," said Dumbledore. "Shall we all go through?" he asked.

Harry nodded and led the way from the classroom to the study where he grabbed a pinch of floo powder and was soon in the familiar and nearly empty room where he had learned to apparate the previous year. Dumbledore and Mac arrived within seconds.

"Harry," began Dumbledore, "Conner and I have been putting our heads together. We both agree that your reflexes are superb. In fact were you to try the auror dueling test right now, I am sure you would pass without a problem." Harry smiled, in spite of himself. "The thing we feel that you must work on is control. Reflexes are nothing without good spell control. We have been considering how best to help you improve this, as you will need it to be able to have a chance with the Elemental Magic you are learning. As you well know, you have gained little control over the air spell as yet. We need to find a way to help you with it."

Dumbledore walked to the center of the room and flicked his wand. A large china chamber pot materialized on the floor at his feet. "Harry, can you levitate this vessel?"

Harry moved toward the center of the room and said clearly, "Wingardium Leviosa." The chamber pot rose into the air and floated at eye level.

"Very fine," said Dumbledore. "Now, can you keep the chamber pot suspended whilst you move the flame of this candle?" With a second flick of his wand, Dumbledore produced a candle that also hovered in the air near Harry.

It seemed like an easy request. He was keeping the chamber pot aloft with his wand. He didn't need a wand to raise the candle flame. Harry faced the candle, checking that his wand was keeping the china pot in the air. He concentrated on the flame and... the chamber pot crashed spectacularly to the floor. Harry turned red.

"To be expected," said Dumbledore with a smile.

Harry looked over at Mac who was leaning against the wall and smirking. Dumbledore repaired the chamber pot with a wave of his wand and Harry set about for another try. SMASH! The pot fell again.

After a dozen attempts, Harry was feeling very frustrated. He could never really shift his concentration from the one spell to the other without losing control of the first. Dumbledore smiled at him encouragingly at each fresh attempt, but soon Harry was sweating and tense.

"Harry," said Mac, finally speaking. "Try the spells together, but without speaking."

"What!" said Harry, between irritation and amusement.

"You can do spells without saying them, if you concentrate on what you want to happen. If you think the spells, you may find you _can_ do the two things at once."

"Like walking… and chewing gum!" said Dumbledore helpfully.

After what seemed an hour, Harry finally managed to raise the candle flame before the dratted chamber pot smashed to the floor, for what Harry was sure was the hundredth time. He collapsed to the floor among the china shards, and let out a deep sigh.

By the time he reached the dinner table he was starved. He dug in, thinking how he still had a full night ahead of him.

"Fancy a game of wizard chess this evening?" asked Ron, as he shoveled potatoes onto his plate.

"Can't…I have to meet Mac this evening," he said without looking up.

Ron looked at him, and then, catching on, nodded. "They have you running all directions, don't they?" he said.

Ginny was sitting on Harry's other side. It occurred to him that he needed to check her for the mark, as he promised Dumbledore. Perhaps they could manage it before he went to see Mac. Harry leaned over to her and whispered that she should meet him in Firenze's old classroom after dinner. Ginny nodded and smiled at him.

At the end of dinner, Harry rose from the table and bade the others goodbye, saying he would see them all later. He walked from the Great Hall and then turned down toward the Divination classroom. Looking around and finding no one in site, he ducked inside.

The tree-lined room still resembled nothing less than a forest clearing at night. Harry took a deep breath, sat down on a stump, near the wastepaper basket and waited.

A click of the lock a few minutes later, told him Ginny had arrived. She smiled as she entered and closed the door. Harry stood up as she approached. He took her in his arms and felt a great calming completeness as she rested her head on his chest. If only they could just stay like this forever, he thought.

"How was your day?" she asked finally.

"I'd rather not think about it," he said grinning.

"Well, let's get this over with," said Ginny. She removed her school robes and laid them aside. She was wearing a skirt and blouse underneath. She wrenched the blouse from the waistband and turned away from Harry. He lifted the back and pulled out a bit on the waistband of the skirt. There was, thankfully, nothing to see but smooth skin. "Nothing," said Harry. She turned and hugged him again, placing a kiss on his lips before straightening her clothes. Harry watched her. In his head, he hoped desperately that Lucius Malfoy would never try to reactivate the curse. The possibility that he could, ate at Harry.

A few minutes later Ginny left for the common room while Harry headed for the Potions classroom in the dungeons. His brain was completely done in by the lesson he had just experienced with Mac and Dumbledore, and he longed just to go off to bed. However, Mac wanted to start the werewolf potion and the sooner the better. If it would cure Remus, then Harry was willing to forego extra sleep.

The passage to the Potions classrooms was cool, with its hewn stone walls. It seemed less dank and forbidding now that he was going there to meet with Mac and not Snape. Even the candles spluttering in their brackets seemed friendlier. When Harry pushed open the door of the potions classroom, he saw light coming from the room beyond. Inside, Mac had a lot of ingredients laid out carefully on several tables. Two cauldrons were steaming on a separate table. "Young Harry," said Mac, enthusiastically as he entered. "I've just been getting some of the items organized. Perhaps you would be so kind as to begin over there chopping those roots." Harry nodded and took up his spot. They were soon completely focused on the potion they were making, speaking only as necessary. The next time Harry checked the clock, it was three hours later.

The first week back to school passed very quickly. Harry felt he was spending quite a lot of time in the workroom trying to levitate items and, at the same time, trying to do his various elemental spells. He was finding that doing spells without speaking them was difficult, but when he managed it, it did allow him to do, as Mac and Dumbledore had suggested, two things at one time. His brain, however, felt completely addled by the time he finished each of these lessons.

On Friday, Harry attended the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. The morning was devoted to Bill Weasley explaining how they were going to organize the day. He told the students that dueling would be the focus of the afternoon lessons. Then he launched into a discussion of his own career at Gringotts Bank. Bill had some amazing stories about some of the old tombs he had worked in. Harry made a few notes about some jinxes and hexes that he wanted Bill to show him. The students were hanging on his words, particularly the girls. Many of the girls were looking at him in a dreamy way and Harry wondered if they were taking in anything Bill was telling them.

Ron, elbowed Harry at one point and whispered, "He should give this lot a surprise quiz. I'll bet the only question they could answer is what color Bill's eyes are." Harry suppressed a snort of laughter and Bill raised his eyebrow as he looked over at them. Ron gave him a shrug and they listened quietly for the rest of the lesson.

Hermione was full of praise for Bill's lecture during lunch. She ladled stew into bowls for Harry and Ron as she went over all the stories he had told them. Ginny had gone to talk to Bill and now joined them at the table. Harry squeezed her hand under the table and she smiled at him. "I just told Bill he was doing great. I guess he was worried," she said. Harry couldn't imagine confident and cool Bill worried about addressing a room full of Hogwarts students.

"He was great," said Harry. "I wish I could be there for the dueling practice this afternoon."

"You're not coming?" said Ron through a mouthful of bread.

"Harry is working on that potion," said Ginny who was filling her plate.

Harry lowered his voice and they all leaned closer, "We just started, and it's very complex. Mac thinks it will take the better part of a month to finish it. Then we have to get Remus to drink it while he's a wolf and under a full moon. I'm not sure how that will go. Plus it has to be in a circle of six people who want to break the curse. There are plenty of things that could go wrong," said Harry. "Anyway, I said I'd help Mac every Friday afternoon till it's done."

A few minutes later, Harry was again heading for the dungeon while Ron, Hermione and Ginny went off for dueling practice with Bill.

Mac was working in the back room when Harry entered. Harry set down his things and checked the list that Mac had made to keep the various processes organized. Remus came in a few minutes later.

"Lupin," said Mac enthusiastically. "So glad you could come. Please take a seat." Mac came around and indicated a chair at a small table in the corner. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"Thanks, yes," said Remus. Harry, taking his cue from Mac, took a seat at the table too.

"Harry, tea for you?" asked Mac.

"No thanks," said Harry, the excitement at telling Remus rising in him.

Once the tea had been presented and Mac had taken the third seat, he clasped his hands and leaned toward Remus. "Harry found something that day in the Department of Mysteries and he asked me to help him work it out. I've done a good deal of research and I think we really have something here. What I am speaking about, Lupin, is a cure for werewolf-ism." Macs words hung in the air.

Lupin was holding his cup half way to his mouth, which was slightly open. He stared at Mac. Then he placed his cup back on the table. "Is this a joke?" asked Remus with a note of irritation in his voice.

"Not at all," said Mac. For the next twenty minutes, Mac explained the find, and what they had done so far.

"I…I can't believe it," said Lupin. "Might I see the book?"

Mac passed him the text and the translation. "And, I checked my notes with Snape," explained Mac as Remus studied the old book.

Lupin looked up at him; comprehension dawned on him. "That night you came…" he stopped himself, glancing at Harry.

"No need to keep quiet around Harry, I had him with me that night, under his father's old cloak. But don't worry, I swore him to secrecy," said Mac, seeing Lupin's frown.

"Conner, you know Dumbledore didn't want Harry down there," said Lupin. However, Mac just shrugged as though it was not really an issue. Lupin seemed to realize he would not be able to affect Mac's behavior so he turned back to the book. "But this potion," said Lupin looking as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing, "Do you actually think this could work?"

Mac smiled at him and winked.


	9. As Normal As Possible

Chapter Eight – As Normal As Possible

Harry and Mac's little talk with Lupin had certainly had an effect. Lupin was disbelieving, then sure they had to be wrong, and finally, after pouring over the old text, guardedly hopeful that they had a real possible cure for his werewolf-ism. Mac had assured him that when it was time to perform some tests on the potion, that he, Lupin could be present. Mac and Harry had then spent the rest of that afternoon until dinner, working on the complex and delicate formulation, while Lupin watched, rather anxiously.

Harry was glad when it was finally time to quit. His back was aching from standing at a table and shredding roots, just so, for what seemed hours. The room was filled with a yellowish steam, which smelled strongly of sulfur, making his eyes burn. Escaping to the fresh air of the entrance hall was a relief. He stood there for a minute next to the house hourglasses, with their shining gemstones, while students walked past on their way to dinner, some hailing him as they went by. When he felt his head clear again, Harry followed the others into the Great Hall.

Ron had saved him a seat across the table from Hermione and Ginny. The girls were discussing the dueling lesson they had that afternoon and giggling over something that had happened during class.

"Let me in on the joke, won't you?" said Harry as he pulled a plate of roast beef toward him.

Hermione straightened up and tried to look serious. "It's really not funny. I know we shouldn't be laughing."

"But it was funny," began Ginny. "It's Malfoy," she whispered. They both turned to look over at Draco who was again seated at the end of the Hufflepuff table, toying with a plate of food uninterestedly.

"Draco tried to insult Bill during our dueling lesson. The great prat said he didn't think a banker would know much about curses, but perhaps he could show the class how to count knuts," said Hermione.

"So Bill decided to let Draco have a go at him," explained Ginny, suppressing her giggles. "After they bowed to each other, Draco began firing off spells and Bill just stood there calmly, deflecting them. In fact, he turned to the class and began talking about the spells Draco was casting, as though it was part of the lesson."

"Yeah, Bill never broke a sweat," said Ron through a mouthful of food.

"Draco was getting really mad," said Hermione. "He actually tried the Cruciatus curse."

"Bill spun around and without saying _anything_, he turned Draco into… a camel," Ginny smirked. "It was unbelievable! Then he actually bowed to the camel, I mean, Draco, and said _Yes, Draco I work at the bank!_"

"Everyone was laughing," said Hermione. "And, of course, he changed Draco back," she said with a snicker.

Harry grinned at them and snuck a look at Draco too.

As pudding appeared, Harry noticed the Evening Prophet was distributed on all the tables. He had forgotten that tonight would be the first current events discussion. It appeared that Hermione had actually made some notes in preparation. Ron gave Harry a look that said, _don't get her started_. Instead, Harry picked up a spare paper and glanced at the headlines: _Bagman Responds to Criticism as Goblins Remain Neutral. Death Eaters Claim Responsibility for Destroying the Fortress at Azkaban. Giants Storm Village, Killing 20. _

Harry didn't care if Bagman was in for criticism, and since the dementors had left Azkaban, he was not sure that the destruction of the prison was devastating news. Giants on the loose, however, was a story worth discussing.

Dumbledore and the other teachers moved down to the house tables and took seats around the room as the plates magically disappeared from the tables. Then Dumbledore began the discussion by shaking open the newspaper and reading the headlines. Soon everyone was involved in excited debate.

Harry rather enjoyed listening to the conversation, although it was surprising how little some of the students knew about what was really going on. There were still some who didn't seem to understand that the Ministry was not doing a good job in trying to capture or control Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Zacharias Smith kept quoting his father on the subject and his father seemed to hold everything the Ministry did in very high esteem. Harry refrained from adding any comments of his own.

Ludo Bagman, the current Minister of Magic, was an odd sort, Harry thought. Although he seemed harmless enough, he had cheated Fred and George out of gold and he had acted very funny toward Harry last term after the Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade. It did not inspire confidence to think he was in charge of the government. In all, the Ministry seemed to be doing a very poor job of coming up with solutions and was only reacting after a disaster had occurred.

It was just past nine when Dumbledore rose and called an end to the discussion. "I am pleased to see how enthusiastically you have all embraced this little experiment. As it has gone so well, we will definitely continue doing it. Now, off to your common rooms with you, and good night." With that, he extinguished many of the floating candles in the Great Hall and the students moved toward the doors, their dialogue carried on out into the hallway.

Dumbledore called to Harry, motioning him over as the remaining stragglers left the hall. He sat down heavily and motioned for Harry to do the same. "Harry, I had a talk with Conner and discovered that you and he have stumbled across a very ancient cure that may reverse the effects of a werewolf bite. I also know that Conner made a little… detour, the other night."

"Uhhh…Yes sir," said Harry. He decided to concentrate on the former comment about the cure, and not the latter. "We found it in the Department of Mysteries, but Mac had to translate it all first. Now he thinks it may actually work."

"Yes, I understand that he consulted an expert in the field," remarked Dumbledore, his eyes fixed on Harry.

Harry did not meet the headmaster's eyes. It seemed he had put two and two together. Harry swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"I believe that I am right in suspecting that he did not make that visit alone," said Dumbledore, peering over his spectacles at Harry.

"Uhh…sir, I didn't know where we were going…" Harry admitted. "I didn't know Snape was there…I mean here." Harry decided to ask his question, even if it did get him in trouble, "How could you keep him here in the castle?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a minute before responding. "Harry, we felt that this was the safest place to keep him. We did not want Severus to be held by the Ministry where someone could get to him, but I never intended for you to see him again."

"I'm glad I did," said Harry defiantly. "It's good to know where your enemies are."

"Harry, I want your word that you will stay away from Severus Snape," said Dumbledore sternly.

"He betrayed all of us. How can you let him…?" Harry wanted to say_ live_, but stopped himself.

Dumbledore's eyes were flashing. "Harry, I know you hate him. However, the Order may have a use for him. Sometimes one must set aside their own selfish interests for the greater good," said Dumbledore.

Harry could not help thinking this comment was rich. After all, he was setting aside his own safety, and was being groomed to kill the dark lord. How often did he have to make this kind of sacrifice? Dumbledore was looking at him, awaiting an answer. "All right!" said Harry, feeling exasperated.

"Thank you Harry," said Dumbledore in a tired voice. "I think it is for the best."

Saturday dawned, clear and bright. The prospect of the days Quidditch try-outs drove Snape from his mind temporarily. The resentment that Harry felt at Dumbledore's words from the previous night had been replaced by the excitement of doing some flying out in the fresh fall air.

Ron limped next to Harry as they headed for the Quidditch pitch and the Gryffindor team try-outs. It occurred to Harry that Ron's limp was much less noticeable these days, or else he, Harry was now used to it. Ron rarely complained of his leg anymore, though Harry knew it bothered him at times. He saw Ron rubbing it occasionally under a desk or when sitting in his bed. Today there would be no talk of sore legs though. Ron had a wild and gleeful glint in his eye that only Quidditch could put there.

The rest of the team was in the locker room when they arrived. Ginny and the others looked eager to get on their brooms. Colin had worn his Quidditch robes by mistake and was now changing back out of them. There was even a sign posted on the door warning students not to wear their team colors during practices for security reasons.

"Team!" said Ron loudly, as he entered the room. "Today we need to find two new beaters. We want players who fit with our team and who have the right potential. I don't know how many people will be here at the try-out but we'll test whoever has turned up. Let's not make it too hard on them today. Just be looking out for a diamond in the rough, because we're not likely to see any stars out there."

Ron's short pep talk had finished. Everyone smiled encouragingly, but they all knew they'd be lucky to have even two candidates trying out today. There were fair few Gryffindors to begin with, and fewer still that actually fancied the dangers of playing Quidditch on the house team. Everyone enjoyed watching from the stands but actually playing against another house team was a bit forbidding.

To their amazement, four people were waiting with their brooms in their hands as the team stepped out on to the field. The really surprising thing was that two of the hopefuls were not Gryffindors.

Ernie Macmillan was standing with his broom next to Dennis Creevey, who had tried out the previous year, and had been dreadful. Next to him was Geoffrey Hooper, a Gryffindor who was a bit small for his age, but Harry had heard he was a fine flyer. Then there was a second Hufflepuff, named Kevin Whitby. He had played on the old Hufflepuff team.

Ernie came forward immediately and shook hands with Ron. "I know I'm not in Gryffindor, but Hufflepuff has decided not to field a team this year, owing to losing most of its players. I decided that in the interest of inter-house cooperation I'd try out. I don't know that I'm up to Gryffindor standards. You do field a really strong team, but I thought to myself, why not have a go?"

Ron looked a bit bewildered, and glanced over at Harry. Harry shrugged.

"Is that legal, Harry?" whispered Colin Creevey from behind him.

"I'm not sure Colin," said Harry, quietly. He guessed it didn't matter if they took people from other houses. After all, there was a limited pool of potential players.

Ron turned to glance around the stadium for some sort of clue as to what to do. Hermione was sitting in the stands wrapped in a cloak and munching some toast she'd brought down from breakfast. She seemed to understand the problem, for she stood up, climbed down the stands toward the lowest seats, and beckoned Ron over. Ron's brow furled and he strode over to where Hermione was waiting.

Harry watched as Hermione gestured and talked while Ron stood with his arms crossed and nodded, listening to her. Then he returned to the team. "Hermione says it's down in _Hogwarts: a History_, that inter-house teams were common up until around the seventeenth century, at which time…" Ron paused, then said, "Anyway, she says its ok." Harry suppressed a smirk.

Ron turned and thanked Ernie and the rest for coming. Then he started the try-outs as though everything was perfectly normal. After an hour of watching the various hopefuls show their skill, Kevin Whitby and Geoffrey Hooper were selected. Ron had talked his decision over with the team before making the announcement. He was concerned that other Gryffindors would be upset that a Hufflepuff was being taken on.

"Ron," said Ginny, "He was the best, although he wasn't very good. Let's face it, the others were dreadful. Since he's in Hufflepuff we'll have more people on our side during matches."

Ron smiled at this observation and went to tell the Kevin and Geoffrey the news. Harry watched with Ginny and the rest of the team from the sidelines. Ernie and Dennis seemed to take the news well. Ernie made a show of shaking Ron's hand, and also the hands of Geoffrey and Kevin, before heading off the field. As he passed the rest of the team, he said happily, "Rather glad I wasn't chosen. You lot fly too fast for my tastes. It looks much easier from the stands." He gave them all a thumbs-up and walked off.

The team practiced for another hour, then decided to head for the castle and lunch. The little house elves had stood guard the entire time, ranged around the top of the Quidditch stadium. They looked alert and tense, which was in contrast to their funny little hats and socks that marked them as part of Dobby's security forces.

Ron jabbed Harry during lunch. "Are we going to do our practice tonight?"

Harry nodded to him. "Let's do it about nine tonight."

Harry and Ron had agreed to practice Harry's Elemental Magic spells together twice a week, and away from everyone else. They decided to try to find a place outside, as any problems, such as unexpected lightening, would seem more natural outdoors and not reverberating inside the castle walls. After inspecting several possible spots, they decided on the Astronomy Tower. At night, it was unlikely they would be spotted, and it was so high that any sound was unlikely to be heard.

Harry and Ron were experts at using the invisibility cloak and the castles various secret passageways to avoid being caught out of bed at night. After dinner on Saturday night, they waited for things to settle down and then left through the portrait hole.

The night air was crisp as they stepped out onto the flagstone ramparts. Harry closed the door and put a silencing charm on it just in case. At first, Harry was very reluctant to try the air spell, so they worked with water and fire. Harry noticed a curious thing as he tried to channel Ron's magic through him and into the fire or the water. He began to feel more of a sense of control. Previously, he had found controlling the spells to be quite difficult. With Ron, however, Harry could feel magic flowing into him. He could slow it down or draw more from Ron. He could also control the magic he was feeding to the spell. A few times, he lost control and caused a large fireball to explode rather loudly, and he doused both of them, when the water he was attempting to control decided to leap out of the bucket they were using, and come straight at them.

Ron gamely repeated his part as an extra magical source even though it made him very tired after about an hours practice.

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron. "How can you stand it? You have to be sending out three times the magical energy that you're getting from me. How come it doesn't flatten you?"

"Fire, Earth and Water don't bother me much, but Air…," he said.

"Harry, you have to try me on the air spell, otherwise we may just be wasting our time," said Ron, as he collapsed against the crenulated wall of the tower.

"We will mate," said Harry. "Next time."

Harry and Ron had tried the air spell together during their next four practices. The first time, Ron was reduced to a jelly-legged heap, and nearly needed to be helped back to Gryffindor tower. Ron was determined, however, to make it work and insisted that Harry try again. So they had. The second attempt went much better, with Harry keeping the amount of magic he drew off Ron, under control. He and Ron were elated and stepped up their practices.

As the weeks went by, Harry gained a measure of confidence and control over the Elemental spells that he had not previously felt. In fact, on the third week back at school, Professor Dumbledore commented on the fact that he was definitely gaining command of these spells, and he had looked very pleased.

Harry still had not told Dumbledore about linking to another wizard; he had not told anyone, except his friends, who remained sworn to secrecy. Hermione, of course, maintained that information of this kind would help Dumbledore, but Harry no longer trusted that such information would remain safe in the hands of others.

What with Quidditch practice, and his secret practices with Ron, and the potions work he was doing with Mac, Harry was so busy that he was surprised to find that it was approaching Halloween.

Another effect of the busy routine that they had settled into was that Ginny and Harry had become a bit careless about the mark. As time passed, no sign of the mark had re-appeared. Harry was more than happy look at Ginny anytime, anyplace, but knowing how she felt about the mark, he had been careful to wait for her to ask him to check for it. The whole thing had turned into an excuse for finding spots to meet around the castle where they could be alone together for a little while, and on Dumbledore's orders to boot.

A week before Halloween and several weeks before the first Quidditch match, Harry arrived at the room of requirement, their meeting spot that evening. Harry was in a good mood, and eager to spend some time with Ginny. They had both been so busy the previous week that they had few opportunities to see each other, at least not alone.

When Harry entered the room, he found Ginny waiting for him. She was seated on a sofa by a fire and the lights were low. Harry joined her and they immediately fell to kissing. After ten minutes or so of this, Ginny surfaced. "Oh, bother," she said. "You need to check for the mark. Professor Dumbledore asked me today when the last time was that you'd looked. I lied and said yesterday. Do you think it's possible to lie to a Legilimens?"

Harry snorted with laughter, and then composed himself. "I really hate having to do this all the time, you know. Let's have a look then," Harry said in mock boredom.

Ginny gave him a rueful stare. "So you're willing to have a look? Not too busy, or anything?" Harry grinned at her as she stood and turned her back to him, pulling her blue Weasley jumper up in back.

Harry leaned closer, tugged down on the waistband of her jeans with one hand, and ran his fingers over the spot with his other. Nothing was there. Harry stood and said with a note of concern, "Ginny, I think I see something." Ginny spun to face him with fear quickly spreading over her features. "Yes," continued Harry. "I think you should take off that sweater so I can get a really good look at it," said Harry, his face cracking into a smile.

"You're evil!" she said, cottoning on. "And, Harry Potter, you know as well as I, that's not a good idea." But she smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around him as they sunk back onto the sofa. A good bit of snogging was done over the next hour, and truth be told, Harry did manage to get her sweater off.

Harry held Ginny's hand as they walked back to Gryffindor tower. Perhaps having spent some quality time with Ginny would allow him a good night's sleep. He had been having dreams recently about the mark and Ginny. They were happening almost every night now. They were, he admitted to himself, not so much about the mark as they were about...well... The thought gave him a hot feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In Harry's dreams, Ginny would come to him breathless and worried, or in tears. She would be wearing a robe of some sort, and she would slide it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor when she would ask him to look at her back. The dream had variations. She was however, always very grateful when he told her there was no mark, and she would turn and would press against him. At this point, he generally woke up and would be unable to get out of bed until he settled down a bit, or else risk a ribbing of some kind from Ron and Neville. After the embarrassment of the first time, Harry had been careful to linger under the covers a few minutes. At such times, he found concentrating hard on his Herbology homework seemed to help.

He willed his brain to jump from his dreams back to reality. He looked over at Ginny who was talking happily about a recent Transfiguration lesson. She didn't act worried about the mark so that anyone would know, but really the only thing they were doing was waiting around for the foul thing to come back. How long would Ginny be in this danger? Harry wondered if Mr. Weasley and his older sons were seeking Lucius Malfoy. It could be months, or even years before Harry or someone else laid hands on him and killed him, for surely he would have to die to lift the curse, if Dumbledore was correct. Harry would love to be the one to do it.

The weather turned bad over the next week, with rain falling nearly ever day. It dampened the already dismal mood of the small group of students in the castle. The students spoke in whispers as they moved through the halls, making the castle seem unnaturally quiet.

Toward the end of a dull, gray week, Harry, Hermione and Ron sat in Transfiguration as hail beat upon the windows and the noise of it reverberated through the classroom making it hard to hear even a professor like McGonagall who always spoke clearly and loudly. As she was explaining for the fourth time how to transfigure a cat into a rabbit, Professor Dumbledore stuck his head inside the door and asked her to step into the hallway. He had a very tired and grave look on his face and McGonagall hurried toward the door telling them all to continue working. She was back a few minutes later.

McGonagall had a grim look on her face and she was muttering to herself. As she approached the front of the room, her mutterings got louder, until she slapped her wand down on her desk and turned to face the class. "There is no point waiting till this evening for you to read this news in the Prophet," she began. "Last evening there was a benefit for St. Mungos hospital. The event took place in London. Somehow, poison was introduced into the food and nearly everyone, save the musicians, were quickly overcome and died. The Ministry is reporting nearly fifty casualties, and is in a panic. They have are calling for any large wizard gathering to be cancelled while they attempt to apprehend the culprits.

Neville blurted out "Who did it?" but he could stop himself.

"Death Eaters!" exclaimed McGonagall looking disgusted. "Nasty, cowardly thing to do!" she spat. "Poisoning is such a low, dirty..." she stopped and composed herself. "Yes, well, the long and the short of it is that the Ministry is now worried over the food safety at Hogwarts and wants to send an inspection team. They are demanding testing of all meals prior to service," McGonagall sniffed. "As though it were possible to contaminate food inside this castle; I mean, really!" she said.

Hermione was sitting with her mouth open. Ron, however, continued to work on his cat. "Hope this doesn't throw the house elves off their cooking," he said.

Ministry officials were seen striding up to the school the next day. Dumbledore met them in the entrance hall. They looked bedraggled and rain soaked as they spoke to the headmaster. Harry could clearly hear the conversation, as could everyone else. They were silently watching the scene through the open door.

"Now see here, Dumbledore," a tall thin wizard was saying as he wrung out his hat on to the floor. "New Ministry guidelines. You wouldn't want your students poisoned."

"Gentlemen, I assure you I have taken the proper precautions," said Dumbledore mildly.

"Dumbledore, this potion," said the tall man pointedly, withdrawing a small vial from his cloak and holding it aloft, "Is the very one responsible for the deaths of forty-eight wizards and witches."

Dumbledore remained impassive, "Please, if you do not accept my assurances that everything is under control, then follow me into the Great Hall." Dumbledore turned and led them forward.

The Ministry man, looking huffy, followed him, his team trailing behind.

As soon as the man crossed the threshold of the room, a loud crack like a gunshot made everyone jump. The vial flew from the man's pocket and he was immediately surrounded by some very angry looking house elves.

The vial zoomed to a cabinet in the corner of the room that opened long enough to admit the small bottle and then closed with a slam.

Dumbledore turned to face the man. "My dear sir, I hope you see that a poisoning at Hogwarts is quite unlikely. The Ministry delegation seemed grudgingly satisfied and stalked out a few minutes later. Dumbledore leaned on the doorframe and rubbed his eyes as the front doors closed on them.

The headmaster was looking very pale these days. Harry recalled that in former times, even though his face was very lined, his eyes always shone brightly. He seemed quick-witted and he moved swiftly when the need struck him. Now Harry found that Dumbledore seemed more tired, care-worn and with a look of old age in his face that Harry had never noticed before.

"Well, after all, he's about one-hundred and fifty years old," said Ron authoritatively over their dinner.

Harry stole a glance at the head table. Dumbledore's chair was empty. He had not returned to eat after the encounter. He must have gone off to his office, thought Harry. Dumbledore's chair was empty more and more often of late. Harry didn't know if the headmaster was away from the castle at those times, or simply not up to coming down. He seemed to make a point to come on Friday nights for their current events discussion, though.

The other irksome thing was that Dumbledore was missing more and more of Harry's private lessons. If the Elemental spells were Harry's only or best hope in a fight with Voldemort, surely nothing was more important. However, more often than not, Mac took the lessons. Harry liked Mac a lot. Indeed Mac had become an adult that Harry relied on. He was brusque and didn't follow the rules, nor did he allow anyone to push him around; something Harry could admire. Still Mac could not perform this type of magic and so his help and suggestions were pure guesswork. Harry was finding his secret practices with Ron to be much more productive.

Harry was now able to do two spells at one time, although it took a great deal of concentration on his part. It all centered around concentrating on both of them, simultaneously, in his head. As a result, he found he didn't need to say an incantation most of the time to make it work. In his classroom spell work he still said the incantations aloud. There was no reason to let on he didn't need to any longer. Like his secret practice sessions, Harry was beginning to see the value in not letting everyone know everything that he knew.

On a cold and windy Thursday, he and Dumbledore were having a lesson in the workroom. For a change, they were alone together. Mac had participated in most of the lessons thus far, but he was busy today. Dumbledore was having Harry attempt two Elemental spells at once. He was attempting to spin fire within the vortex of the storm he was able to conjure. It was an impressive sight, but quite difficult to maintain for more than a few seconds.

A clattering sound distracted Harry as he stood with his arms raised toward the ceiling while whirling fire and black clouds swirled over him. The sound caused Harry to look around. He saw Dumbledore bending to retrieve his own wand. As the old wizard bent down, he staggered, nearly collapsing on to the floor. Harry rushed forward, forgetting the firestorm over his head, and had to dodge a rain of burning embers as he ran to his headmaster's side. "Sir, are you alright?"

Dumbledore made a croaky noise and let out a breath as Harry assisted him into a chair. Dumbledore sat for a moment with his eyes closed and a shaky hand over his heart before opening his eyes. "I am fine Harry. It's merely old age, I fear. Someday, I hope you are able to enjoy the benefits and pains of old age. It is an exciting transition."

"But sir, shouldn't you go and lie down a bit?" asked Harry in concern.

"Thank you Harry for your thoughtfulness. Please continue; I will be fine."

That night, Harry told Ron, Hermione and Ginny about the way Dumbledore had collapsed during their lesson.

"Do you think he's going to die?" asked Ron.

"Oh Ron, " snapped Hermione," Of course he'll die someday."

Ron opened his mouth to fire back, but Ginny spoke first. "He is quite old and I suppose it's catching up with him. It's just sad to think that a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore might die. Think what that would mean. Who else does Voldemort fear besides Dumbledore?"

The common room cleared out slowly and the fire died back so that the room became quiet and shadowy. The others had all gone off to bed, leaving Harry alone with his Transfiguration textbook and his thoughts. Harry had been helping Bill on certain Friday's with the dueling classes. He had to admit he had enjoyed helping the other students improve their defense skills. At other times, he was helping Mac with the potion that was nearly ready. Soon they would have to make preparations for the ritual that might give Lupin back his life. His days, he realized, were packed with activity.

To Harry, it seemed that time was flying by. He had been feeling very restless lately and the castle, even though quite empty still seemed oppressive. He felt as though Quidditch and lessons and potion making, and all of it, was somehow lulling him into a false sense of security, and holding him back from what he really needed to do.

Halloween fell on Sunday. The decorations were somewhat subdued compared with other years. Hagrid had provided some very large pumpkins and there were the usual live bats swooping through the room, but there were no dancing skeletons or other entertainment. The feast, however, was fabulous.

After the feast was done, Harry fancied a walk outside. Ginny said she needed to finish an essay for Potions and couldn't come. Hermione and Ron agreed to go along with him, even though they had ought to be in their common room. They slipped out the oak front doors while Filch was reprimanding two third years who had stuck everlasting suckers to the banister of the marble staircase.

The night air was crisp and cold. "We shouldn't be out here, you know Harry" said Hermione.

Harry ignored this comment. He needed air and space. "Do either of you feel as though we ought to be doing something else, something to stop Voldemort?"

"What could we do?" asked Ron. "We're practicing your spell, aren't we? The Order is doing what they can, and we still have this year of school to finish."

Hermione agreed. "Soon, we'll be able to join them and really fight against him," she said.

"Do you think there will be anything left to fight for if we just wait for school to be over?" asked Harry. He could feel them looking at him in the darkness. Neither replied.

They walked around the grounds through the darkness for about an hour, talking quietly about the latest news in The Daily Prophet. As they crept back inside the castle through the front door, the entrance hall was dim and empty. They had not taken the invisibility cloak so they were on the look out for teachers, or worse, Filch. Ron pulled the door shut behind them and Harry glanced down the hall toward the classrooms as they headed toward the marble staircase. He thought he glimpsed something on the floor down the main corridor. He immediately shushed Ron and Hermione who had been whispering about their latest Transfiguration class.

He signaled them to stay with him and they moved toward what appeared to be a pile of rags in the darkened hallway. As Harry approached, he realized it was a body and it was lying partly in the hall and partly across the landing that led down to Snape's cell. Harry rushed forward, pulling his wand from the inside pocket of his robes.

"Lumos," he said and he moved the wand down to the form on the floor. It was Remus and he looked deathly pale and still. Harry crouched down, fear rising in his chest.

Hermione stood with her hands over her mouth. "Is he alright?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"He's breathing," said Harry bending low and putting a hand on Remus's chest.

Hermione bent over him too. "Harry, he needs the hospital wing."

Harry looked at Ron. "Better go get Madam Pomfrey right way. Ron nodded and turned to leave. "Get Dumbledore too. The password to his office is Sugar Quill." Ron sprinted for the stairs.

Hermione knelt next to Remus and put a hand on his forehead. Harry rose and climbed carefully over him, peering down the stairs. The torches had been put out and the stairway was black. Harry raised his wand and started down in the dark.

"Harry!" said Hermione in a scared and strangled voice.

"Stay with him, Hermione. I just need to check something," said Harry as he faced the gaping darkness. Snape was down there, or should be. As he moved downward, he realized he should light the torches. He waved his wand and thought "Incendio." The blaze of light showed nothing unusual until he reached the bottom of the stairs and the cells. Snape's cell door stood open. There were signs of a scuffle in the small side room, where the table was overturned and a candle lay on the floor, wax puddling around it.

Harry was sure that Snape's cell would be empty but he could not help but check. The dark cell was indeed deserted, the leg manacle blasted to bits. As he turned to go back up stairs to Remus, a strange glint from the floor caught Harry's eye. A rat lay upon the flagstones in the corner.

Harry moved toward it for a closer look. What, he wondered, was causing the silvery glint? Harry poked at the rat with his wand. It had a shiny, silver paw. It did not stir and there was blood under it. Harry was sure it was dead…he was dead; for surely this was Peter Pettigrew. A noise overhead made Harry jump.

He climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached Hermione and Remus. "What was that noise?" asked Harry breathlessly. Remus was still lying, unconscious, with Hermione looking frightened. "He cried out, and then he went all limp again. He's breathing, but only just," she said shakily.

A second later Ron rumbled down the stairs and ran toward them, breathing heavily. "Pomfrey's coming," he said. "Dumbledore too, but he asked me to come ahead so you two wouldn't be left down here alone," panted Ron.

Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore followed Ron's path in a few moments. Dumbledore looked frail and worried. He surveyed the situation as Madam Pomfrey, who was wrapped in a maroon dressing gown, knelt to check Remus. With brisk efficiency, she conjured a stretcher to move him to the hospital wing.

"Ms. Granger, will you go along and help Madam Pomfrey?" asked Dumbledore and Hermione nodded, following after the stretcher.

Dumbledore signaled to Harry and Ron to follow him as he started down the steps. "Sir," said Harry, "I already checked it out." Then he proceeded to explain what he'd seen below. Dumbledore listened as they made their way to the room below. When they reached Snape's cell Dumbledore looked closely at the dead rat. "Pity," he said. "Apparently Peter was, in the end, more rat than man."

"What do you think happened sir?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore gazed around. "I suspect that Lord Voldemort sent Pettigrew here, as a rat, to set his faithful servant free. After that, I am afraid I cannot guess. We will have to wait to ask Remus what happened."

But sir," said Ron, "Don't you think Remus must have caught them and killed Pettigrew?"

"You are forgetting the overturned table in the other room, I think. There must have been a fight in there as well," said Dumbledore as he led them back to the center room. "I believe the only thing that is clear is that Severus Snape has escaped."


	10. Breaking Curses

Chapter Nine – Breaking Curses

Dumbledore allowed Ron and Harry to accompany him to the hospital wing to check on Remus. The lights in the ward were low with a few candles lighting the only patient there. Hermione looked up with worry etching her face as they strode in. She rose from her chair wringing her hands.

Remus, his eyes closed, his graying hair framing his care-worn features, was lying in a bed at the end of the ward. "He's had a nasty curse of some kind put on him," said Hermione as they surrounded Lupin's bed.

Madam Pomfrey came into the room with a bottle of some brownish potion and a goblet in her hand. "I think this will bring him around," she said, bustling to the bedside and tipping the liquid into the goblet, where it sparked and snapped as though alive. She raised Lupin's head and poured the liquid into his mouth with practiced ease, and then stood back, watching him. Harry watched too.

Lupin gasped and opened his eyes. Then he rolled to his side and retched into a bucket that Madam Pomfrey had produced out of thin air and slid into place just in time. In a moment Lupin dropped his head back on the pillow and Madam Pomfrey vanished the contents of the bucket. She peered closely at him, tutted, and pronounced that he would need several more draughts of the restorative over the next two days. "He will need to stay here, at the least through tomorrow," she warned. "Other than that, I believe he is cured."

"Thank you, Poppy," said Dumbledore as she walked back to her office.

Remus put a hand to his eyes. "So this is how it feels to be cured," he said hoarsely. "I believe I'd prefer to be unconscious."

Harry was so relieved Remus was all right that he nearly snickered, but quickly fastened a serious look on his face.

"Remus," said Dumbledore, coming closer to the bed. "What can you tell us of what happened tonight?"

Remus opened his eyes and looked at Dumbledore. "I was reading the Evening Prophet when I heard a noise. It startled me, since I hadn't heard anyone on the stairs. It echoes a lot when someone is coming down those stone steps you know. I got up and drew my wand, but before I'd turned, a spell hit the edge of the table where I had just been sitting, and knocked it over. I ran into the center room just as someone fled up the stairs. I followed. The last thing I remember was coming through the doorway at the top. Whoever it was must have been waiting for me. I never saw a thing." Remus closed his eyes again. "Albus, is what we were…looking after…is it still safe?" he asked, tentatively.

Harry and Ron looked over at Dumbledore. "Snape escaped his cell," explained the headmaster.

Remus sat bolt upright and then clutched his forehead in pain, "What! Snape escaped? How is that possible?" Remus sounded more angry than Harry could ever remember him being. "Do they know?" he asked, looking at Harry and his friends.

"Lie back, Remus," said Dumbledore soothingly as he pushed Remus back down against the pillows. "Yes, Harry knows Snape was there. It does appear Snape has been rescued somehow. I have sent word to Arthur and to Bill. They are mounting a search."

"I can't see how he got free. No one had been in or out all day," said Remus sounding tired.

"It appears he did have help," said Dumbledore. "Peter Pettigrew's dead body was found in Snape's cell."

"That's impossible," Remus said, his voice trailing off. "Unless he was…"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He was a rat."

Remus sighed, "But how did he die, if he was helping Snape escape? I fired off a spell or two, but I was never near that cell."

"You may have hit him with a jinx and he just crawled off to die," said Ron speculatively.

"It would serve him right," said Harry angrily.

Dumbledore did not comment. "Please rest Remus. We can talk again in the morning. Harry, Ron, Hermione, off you go."

"But sir," asked Harry, "shouldn't we search the grounds for Snape?"

"Oh, I'm sure he is well away by now," said Dumbledore.

They were shooed out into the hall while Dumbledore went to talk to Madam Pomfrey.

Although they didn't speak to each other as they made their way back to Gryffindor tower, Harry heard Ron muttering something that sounded like, "filthy Death Eaters," while Hermione looked stony-faced. It was not yet eleven when they climbed through the portrait hole, but the common room was empty except for Ginny. She was seated at a table scratching out an essay on a roll of parchment. Harry thought how dismal the castle was becoming, as it held fewer and fewer students. Ron and Hermione collapsed together onto a sofa and Harry took a seat in a chair near them. Ginny got up and came to sit on the arm of the chair Harry was sitting in.

"What's happened now?" she asked looking from face to face.

Ron explained that Remus had been cursed, Snape had escaped, and about finding Peter's dead body.

"So, Pettigrew is dead then?" asked Ginny narrowing her eyes. "Good riddance."

Harry remembered Ginny talking about Pettigrew's presence during her imprisonment in Knockturn Alley. She had vivid memories of the rat, Pettigrew, crawling over her as she lay captive in the old warehouse.

There was a long pause. "How's Remus doing?" asked Ginny.

"Madam Pomfrey didn't know what they hit him with, but she says he'll be fine. She's keeping him in the hospital wing for the next day or so," said Hermione. "I was so worried, standing there waiting for Madam Pomfrey to come. The people we know just keep being hurt and killed, don't they? I can't bear it." She crossed her arms angrily and Ron put his arm around her.

Harry was very glad Remus was not hurt but his thoughts quickly turned to the potion brewing away in the dungeon. A few more days and they could plan the ritual to remove his werewolf curse forever. He hoped Remus would be up to it. If not, they might have to wait another entire moon-cycle. Harry didn't like to think of a delay like that when they were so close.

Ron rose and pulled Hermione to her feet. They went off toward the stairs to the dormitories, talking quietly together. Ginny went back to the table to pack up her books. Harry sat staring into the fire. Peter had been able to breach the castle defenses and somehow free Snape. Snape was probably back with his real master, Voldemort. Harry gritted his teeth. He had captured Snape and now the man was free again.

Ginny came over to Harry's chair, dropped her book bag and then sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around him. The scent of her hair against his face gave him a comfortable, warm feeling that offset the worry he felt over the attack on Lupin and the escape of Snape. Ginny smoothed his hair off his forehead and kissed it. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I'm sure Lupin will be alright by next week's full moon. And you can't waste time worrying about Snape just now."

"Do you always know what I'm thinking?" Harry asked her raising his eyebrows.

She didn't answer, but smiled at him then got up and went off to the dormitories.

Harry stayed seated staring into the fire. Even Hogwarts was not really safe. Pettigrew had broken through the castle defenses. If he could get in, something or someone else might be able to as well. He wondered if they shouldn't be setting guards at night.

He finally climbed wearily to his feet and trudged up to his dormitory room. It had been another long day.

As Harry came into his dormitory room, he thought he heard muffled whispering coming from Ron's curtained bed. Then he heard a loud snore from Neville's bed and Ron went quiet. Harry thought Ron must be having a dream or something as he walked over to his own bed, and began stripping off his clothes. Then he heard it again; a whispered voice saying _I should go, Ron, this is really a bad idea_. The whisperer was most certainly Hermione. Harry stepped behind his bed and finished dressing in his pajamas, just in case she decided to make a dash for the door. Then he climbed into his own bed and drew all the curtains shut. He didn't really want to know what was going on across the room. He heard small noises for a while, stuffed his pillow over him head, then he drifted off to sleep. At least they weren't rowing, Harry thought with a grin.

In the middle of the night, Harry was awakened by the sound of feet on the floor. He put on his glasses and poked his head through his bed curtains to see two shapes moving in the darkness.

"I really have to go, Ron," was whispered into the moonlight-bathed room. As Harry's eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw Hermione, her hair mussed, standing in what appeared to be, Ron's pajama top, with her back against the door and Ron pressed up against her, wearing only his pajama bottoms.

Ron whipped around and saw Harry. He stood in front of Hermione, blocking her from view and began to stammer, "Uhhh...Hi Harry,...Uhh, Hermione was just,...Uhhh…."

Then Hermione's voice, a high-pitched whisper, was saying, "I was really upset about Lupin, you see, and Ron was…comforting me...and...well…."

Harry shook his head and lay back on his bed. The door creaked open and shut, Ron's bed creaked again, and all was silence. Harry vowed to himself not to mention this incident to anyone. Well, perhaps he'd ask Ron about it sometime. No, he thought, he'd rather wipe that image from his head if possible.

Breakfast the next morning was a bit uncomfortable. Hermione refused to look Harry in the eye and kept blushing every time she caught sight of him. Ron, on the other hand, was strutting around and very pleased with himself. Harry tried to ignore both of them and focus on his plate.

Luckily, Remus was pronounced fit by Madam Pomfrey the next evening and he was back at the staff table at breakfast on Tuesday. As none of the other students had heard or seen what happened, Harry did not expect anyone to remark over Remus's presence. Malfoy was the only one to react as Lupin came in. Harry noticed him furrow his brow as he watched Lupin take his seat at the staff table.

With everything going on, Harry had nearly forgotten the upcoming Quidditch match set to take place on the following Saturday. Mac had pronounced the werewolf potion ready to try. The next full moon would also be on Saturday night, so a decision had to made as to whether the ritual could be tried, or not. Mac and Remus spent their free moments making plans. By Wednesday, it was decided to do the thing on Saturday night. Remus was insisting he was well enough for the attempt. He was to find four others to assist in the ritual, since six were needed, with Harry and Mac rounding out the group.

The week passed in a blur of lessons, whispered hallway conversations between Harry and Mac or Lupin, and Quidditch practices. Harry was barely able to complete his homework these days what with worrying over the outcome of the ritual.

The general level of excitement for the upcoming Quidditch match was somewhat dampened by the small number of students in the castle. The poisoning incident in London had apparently been the final straw for a few more parents worried over the safety of their children, for another ten or twelve students had been packed off home right after the incident. Harry tried to ignore the empty seats in the Great Hall and in his classes. They seemed to accuse him of inaction in the matter of Voldemort, the instigator of all these terrible tragedies.

Now that Gryffindor had picked up a Hufflepuff on their team, Hufflepuff was solidly supporting Gryffindor. With only three house teams, assuming that Ravenclaw was going to be able to field a team, no one was expecting spectacular plays, and the normal game rotation would have to be changed.

The lack of enthusiasm did not seem to have been noticed by Ron, who was as feverishly excited as he had been at the start of the last year. Ginny and Natalie were both strong and clever players, making up for the inexperience or lack of talent of the others. Just as Oliver Wood had been used to doing, Ron would run up to Harry between lessons and propose various new moves or changes in strategy, until Harry had tell him to settle down. He had called as many practices as he could; as many as the house elves would agree to watch over. As a result, he had them guarding the field several evenings a week. Harry thought he heard the elves muttering under their breath about having to stand outside in the dark and the rain for, "that Weasley boy's team."

On the morning of the first match, Harry got up early and dressed in his Quidditch robes, and then rousted Ron. Ron sprang from his bed, complaining that he'd nearly overslept. "It's only seven," said Harry calmly, as he waited for Ron to get ready. He could not pull his thoughts away from the task they would be attempting later that night. Remus had asked Ron to be one of the six to assist with the ritual, and Ron had been honored to be chosen. Harry imagined that Remus would have a very stress-filled day, waiting for nightfall. He refrained from mentioning any of this as Ron cursed his trunk while looking for his Keepers gloves. One thing at a time, Harry told himself. Finish the match, then worry about tonight.

Finally outfitted, Ron followed Harry down to the Great Hall for a bit of breakfast. They were greeted by waves and catcalls as they walked toward the Gryffindor table. After six years of this, Harry was no longer embarrassed and simply waved back. Ron rather enjoyed the attention and encouraged the students to cheer louder. After a glass of pumpkin juice and a piece of toast, Harry sat back and watched for the arrival of the rest of the team. Behind him, he heard Professor McGonagall call Ron's name and motion him to the staff table. Ron looked inquiringly at Harry and then went to talk to her. She leaned forward and spoke to him with an air of seriousness that made Harry worried.

Soon Ginny, Natalie MacDonald, Colin Creevey, and Geoffrey Hooper came in all together. Colin and Hooper looked nervous, but Ginny and Natalie were laughing and talking freely. About a minute later, Kevin Whitby entered the room in Gryffindor Quidditch robes. They had given him Sloper's old robes and changed the name on the back. They fitted him pretty well. The Hufflepuffs hooted and clapped as he too made his way to join the rest of the team, waving in an embarrassed sort of way to his house table.

As Whitby made his way over, Ron plopped down on the bench next to Harry. "Well that was a waste of time," he said, pulling over a plate of bacon.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"McGonagall was asking if I thought Bill would make an impartial referee, with me playing and all," said Ron.

Harry looked hard at him. "Bill is going to referee?"

Ron continued, "I said I thought Bill would try to make fair calls. She said she was afraid there might be people who thought he'd played favorites. I told her Gryffindor didn't care who the referee was as long as they were fair." Ron shoveled eggs on to his plate. "She didn't need me for that, surely."

"Did she say what she was going to do?" asked Harry.

Ron's answer was stifled due to his mouth being full of bacon, but Harry understood him to say, _no_.

A bright sun beamed down at them as the team made their way to the Quidditch pitch and the locker room. The air was cold but the sun felt good. Inside the locker room, Ron looked his team over appraisingly. "Let's just play our game, he said. "Slytherin isn't all that good. They're slow and they have a new Seeker, owing to Malfoy being taken off the team. So, just watch what's going on and play as a team and we should be ok. Ok?" they all nodded. Ron said "Right then," and led them out onto the field.

The stands definitely looked empty, thought Harry. He had seen them packed to bursting at other matches. The various houses had bunched in together against the chill air, leaving large empty spaces between houses. Bill Weasley strode out onto the field dressed in a referees robe, and angry shouts rose up from the Slytherin fans. Harry sighed. Snape had refereed a match in Harry's first year. As a Gryffindor, he hadn't been happy about that. He was sure Bill would be much more impartial than Snape had been on that occasion.

Professor McGonagall took the large purple megaphone and addressed the crowd. "That will do!" she said. "As you all know by now, Madam Hooch has not returned to school this term. She agreed to work at the Ministry this year, as they are very short staffed. Professor Weasley has kindly agreed to act as referee for our Quidditch matches this year. Professor Weasley played Quidditch while at Hogwarts and I believe will be able to fill in for Madam Hooch quite nicely. The house elves are providing extra protection today for the match. Let's give them a round of applause to show that we appreciate their help." She began clapping and most of the students joined in enthusiastically, with the exception of the Slytherins, who were looking mutinous. "Let the match begin!" finished McGonagall, sitting down and passing the microphone to a Ravenclaw girl with a prefects badge, that Harry did not know.

Bill adopted a very straight face and asked the captains to shake hands. As usual, the Slytherin captain, Morris Gorrock grabbed Ron's hand tight enough to break bones. Ron gritted his teeth and twisted Gorrock's arm causing him to let go. They both looked daggers at each other before mounting their brooms. Then Bill released the balls and whistled for play to begin. Harry kicked off from the ground and soared to the far end of the pitch where he began looking out for the snitch. Theodore Nott had the seeker position today for Slytherin. He caught up with Harry and gave him a furtive smile. "How's everything?" asked Harry without looking over at Nott.

"Not bad...you?" asked Nott, appearing to ignore Harry as well.

"Can't complain," said Harry. "Have a good game."

"Same to you," said Nott, as Harry made to fly off around the field. Nott and he had a sort of secret friendship, having both helped each other out of tight situations the previous year. It would do Nott no good, however, to be seen as being friendly toward Harry, and Harry was careful not to compromise Nott.

It was a good day for flying and as Harry sailed around above the pitch, the fresh cold air seemed to drive the cobwebs from his brain. Below, he watched as Ginny put in the first goal. The tiny crowd cheered her. Harry smiled as she sailed past toward the other end of the pitch. He scanned the area for the snitch but saw nothing. Nott was not tailing him the way most opposing teams seekers had taken to doing. He was happy not to have another player trailing behind him.

Slytherin tried and missed their goal as Ron made a fairly easy save. Harry saw Natalie get the Quaffle and streak toward the Slytherin goal. She scored making it twenty to zero.

Harry spotted a gold glint coming from the center of the pitch quite near the ground. He tipped his broom handle down and dove for it. It was definitely the snitch. When he was ten feet away, the snitch suddenly streaked off upward. Harry had a time pulling out of the dive and changing direction. Once he was turned back in the direction the snitch had gone, he saw Nott speeding toward a point off to his left. Harry could not make out the snitch owing to the sun in his eyes, but he urged his Firebolt upwards as fast as he could. Then Nott slowed and stopped in midair. The snitch had vanished again. Harry circled around and stopped too. The crowd howled and cheered. Slytherin had scored.

Suddenly, Harry spotted the snitch again, but off to his right. It was unusual behavior for a snitch to move quite this erratically; however, he flattened himself to his broom handle and sped directly toward it. It would be an easy catch, Harry thought, there was no whooshing sound of the other Seeker closing behind him. He just kept his eyes on the snitch as he speeded ahead, until he grasped it easily and raised his arm in victory. A cry went up, fell away, and rose again from the other end of the field, but at once it was replaced by an angry murmur.

Harry heard Bill's whistle calling a halt to the play. As Harry spun around, he saw Nott at the other end of the pitch and knew what was wrong. Nott was also clasping a snitch victoriously in his fingers. Harry looked at the tiny ball, struggling in his hand and frowned. He headed for the center of the field and the ground, where Bill was beckoning both teams.

"What's all this then?" he asked irritably, as Harry and Nott approached. The two teams in their green or scarlet robes were ranged around him all looking annoyed.

"Harry got the snitch," snarled Ron, who had just landed and was striding forward. "Look!" he said pulling Harry hand out toward Bill. "What's the problem?"

"Nott has one too," said Harry. Ron's face flashed from confusion to understanding.

Morris Gorrock, the Slytherin captain, who was considered a great idiot, bellowed, "We won! Nott got his first!"

Bill ignored him. "Let me see those," he said, holding out his hands toward the two Seekers. Harry and Theodore each handed over their prizes. "Someone's played a damned stupid trick by releasing a second snitch. Stay here," he ordered.

Bill took to his broom and flew up to the staff box where he appeared to be explaining the situation to McGonagall and the other teachers. She took up the magical megaphone. "It seems someone has thought it funny to tamper with the match by releasing a second snitch. Anyone who can shed some light on this should see me after the match is over. Professor Weasley has decided to resume play after re-releasing one and _only one_ snitch. The score stands at twenty to ten.

There was a loud muttering from the crowd. Harry spotted Malfoy sitting by himself near the top row of seats and smirking. He thought he knew exactly who had attempted to spoil the match. Malfoy gave Harry a look of triumph as he lazed in his seat.

Bill called for play to resume. Almost immediately, Ginny scored a goal. After a few failed goal attempts by Slytherin, Colin managed another goal for Gryffindor. While the crowd was cheering, Harry caught sight of the snitch again and streaked toward it. He heard a yelp behind him as Nott realized what Harry had seen. Harry was, however, much closer and again, caught the small gold ball easily. The game ended with Slytherin putting only ten points on the board.

The Gryffindors normally held a party following a Quidditch victory in their common room, but owing to the fact that Hufflepuff was also represented, they turned dinner in the Great Hall into a victory celebration. After Harry and Ron had made an appearance and received the cheers of their housemates, they grabbed sandwiches and escaped back out into the corridor. The evening sky was turning pink and dusky as they turned their steps toward the dungeon. They had another job to do before the evening was over and it was much more dangerous than a Quidditch match.

A few minutes later, Harry and Ron entered the potions classroom to find an anxious looking Remus sitting alone and staring into space while a group of men huddled in the corner of the room, talking. Mac was fidgeting with the cauldron that Harry knew contained the werewolf cure, and shuffling through the notes they had made. It took a moment for Harry to realize that Charlie Weasley was among the group of men. Remus had asked Dumbledore to be one of the six, but he was nowhere in the room.

"Hello, boys," said Arthur Weasley, looking around.

"Hi Harry, Ron," said Charlie, with a smile.

"Hello," said Harry. He counted to himself. Arthur Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Mac and himself made six. There must have been a change in plan. Before he could ask where Dumbledore was, Mac answered the question.

"Professor Dumbledore is feeling poorly," said Mac. "Arthur was good enough to contact Charlie who agreed to fill in." Harry smiled over at Charlie. At least Charlie Weasley was used to handling dangerous beasts. It could be an advantage out on the lawn tonight, with an angry werewolf. Ron went over to talk to his brother, while Harry took a seat next to Lupin. Lupin had wanted Hagrid to be there, however, Hagrid was not a fully qualified wizard, and Mac wanted to take no chances, so Bill been asked.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked in a low voice.

Lupin looked over at him with a rye smile. "I've always been ready for a cure, but I'm trying mot to be too hopeful."

"We were really careful making the potion," said Harry encouragingly.

Lupin put a hand on Harry's back. "I know you were. I just pray I don't hurt anyone tonight, is all."

Harry knew that Bill had a curse that was supposed to immobilize Lupin as soon as he transformed. Bill had even shown Harry how to perform the curse, as a back up. Then they would have to pour the potion into the mouth of the werewolf and form a circle. There was an incantation they had to speak in unison. Harry had copied the words onto six pieces of parchment so each man would have one. After the incantation was read, the beast had to be turned loose, and that was the dangerous part. They did not know how long Lupin would remain a werewolf, assuming the ritual worked. They would all be within striking distance of Lupin at that point. If the ritual did not work, they would have to use shield charms against him until they could get safely back inside the castle. Harry was not scared but he was worried that the potion might harm Lupin rather than heal him.

Mac clapped his hands once and everyone turned to him. "Thank you all for agreeing to come. We are here to perform a remarkable experiment that may free our friend and colleague Remus Lupin, from a long-standing curse. It will be dangerous, and everyone must look sharp. As you all know, we cannot give him the wolfsbane potion to keep him under control. It will make a normal human quite ill, and if our ritual is successful, it would hurt him. Beyond that, you all know the plan," Mac said, checking his watch. "The students will be sent to their common rooms in about thirty minutes. In an hour, we will assemble out on the lawn. The moon will rise about fifteen minutes later. We must be in place and ready at that moment." The group all nodded solemnly. Remus looked as though he would be sick.

He rose and Harry again saw his ragged condition; the result of the prejudice that werewolves lived with. "I want to thank each of you for agreeing to attempt this thing," said Remus. "I can't tell you what it means to me, regardless of the outcome. I ask only that you all stay safe, even if that might mean killing me. I insist you save yourselves and I release you from any guilt over my fate." The room was silent.

"We don't intend to fail, Lupin," said Mac in his deep booming voice. Harry didn't know how the others felt but he had a large lump in his throat at these words and was grateful for the dimness of the room as he wiped a hasty sleeve across his eyes.

Mac checked his watch several times, as they waited in silence. In silence, Mac signaled them that it was time to go out. He handed Harry the stoppered bottle of potion they had so carefully brewed. It was the color of ink. As the men filed past, Mac handed out the parchment sheets with the incantation written upon them. Soon they were back in the warmth of the entrance hall. Everything was still and silent, making their footfalls echo.

Ron pushed open the oak front doors and the darkness and chill air seemed to swirl around them. Harry stepped out into the night and headed toward the pre-determined spot, as far from the castle as possible but still well away from the forest.

The six men formed a circle about eight feet across and Remus stepped into the center. Harry held the bottle ready. "Draw your wands," said Mac, and six wands appeared.

Harry turned to look at the sky. The moon was rising from behind a mountain and as it did, Remus began to transform. It was excruciating to watch. He collapsed to the ground and began to pant. The panting turned to a low moaning growl as his body morphed slowly and painfully into that of a huge wolf. Shreds of Lupin's ripped robes littered the ground. As his eyes changed from gray to yellow, Harry felt the man he knew slip away into a beast, devoid of feeling. As the beast reared and began to howl, the awestruck group moved backward. Bill quickly waved his wand and the werewolf collapsed clumsily in a heap.

Harry uncorked the bottle and approached the wolf as Arthur and Charlie took hold of its head. Mac forced the jaws open and nodded to Harry to pour in the potion. Ron held his lit wand near the large fangs and Harry did his best not to lose any of the precious liquid as he breathed in the rancid breath of the werewolf. It was done. They all stood back watching the shape lying at their feet.

"Let us now recite the incantation. Point your wands at Lupin," said Mac. They read in unison from their parchment and a strong yellow light sprung from each wand tip striking the werewolf as they spoke the final word. It seemed to jolt him. Then Bill released his jinx and they watched as the great wolf shook its head and attempted to stand.

"Now is the most dangerous part," said Mac. "Wands up." Six wands were again raised. "Do not let him bite you," said Mac. "Have your shield charms ready. We do not know how he will react."

Suddenly there was a yowl so painful it made Harry wince to hear it. The werewolf stretched up and growled at the ring of men. Huge jaws opened and the rangy gray body sprung at Charlie, who repelled the beast with a flick of his wand, sending the wolf in Harry's direction. Harry took a step back and readied his own charm. The werewolf however, seemed disoriented and broke through the circle running wildly out across the lawn. Then he began to stumble, his legs failing to work in concert. He slowed and wobbled dangerously, then began to crawl like a wounded animal toward the forest.

Harry had restrained himself thus far and had not followed, or broken the circle, however, they couldn't let Lupin reach the forest where they might never find him. He turned and ran after Remus, but the werewolf's great speed meant Harry was far behind. He heard Mac calling him back, yelling that Remus was still dangerous and not to approach too closely.

Harry's stomach was in a knot. _What if the potion had been wrong? What if it was killing Remus?_

As the werewolf came to a near halt, falling on the cold earth, Harry approached him cautiously. He could hear feet beating toward him across the grounds and the shouts of the other men to stand clear.

"Remus?" Harry said tentatively. The great wolf turned its head up toward him and snapped its jaws menacingly. Then as it stretched out again to attempt to climb to its feet, it began to transform into the body of a man. The moonlight streaming down through an opening in the clouds showed the white smooth skin of a human. The wolf's hair was receding as Harry watched. The pointed ears were turning back to human ones, the paws, back to normal hands and feet.

"Remus!" Harry said again, bending low over the body. There was no response, but there was breathing. The others were running toward them as Harry knelt next to Remus and removed his own cloak to cover his father's old friend. Mac hurried up, last to join the circle of men staring down at Lupin.

"Don't cover him yet boy," said Mac, breathing very hard as he caught up to the rest of the group. "We must first see if there are any remaining effects of the full moon." He quickly knelt next to Lupin's head. The ring of wizards cast shadows that fell over the body, and Mac gestured for the men to move back out of the path of the moonlight so that Lupin was bathed in it, looking pale and cold as he lay twisted on the hoarfrost. Mac raised one of Lupin's eyelids. Harry recoiled momentarily as the yellow wolf's eye met his gaze. Even as he watched, these too began to change to the gray eyes that Harry knew.

Mac grunted as he pushed himself heavily to his feet. "Go ahead then young Harry and wrap him up, then let's get him inside. I think the initial danger has passed."

The mood of the men shifted and they began to talk quietly and hopefully amongst themselves. Arthur Weasley levitated Lupin across the lawn and up to the castle steps, where Mac stopped him. "We should cover him completely. It would do no good if students were to see him in this condition. Bill immediately removed his cloak and soon Lupin's body resembled that of a corpse, wrapped from head to foot.

The party made a silent progress to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was ready for them and directed them to the small side room where Harry remembered that Percy had been kept for a time the previous year. Lupin was placed in the bed and Madam Pomfrey made to shoo them all out. "I'm sorry Poppy," said Mac briskly. "We need to keep a strong guard on him until he comes around." He looked at the somber faces. "I'll stay and perhaps, Arthur, would you be so kind?" Arthur nodded.

"But, do you think it worked? Is he cured or not?" asked Harry anxiously.

"We won't know for certain until tomorrow night. If the moon has no effect, then we will know we were successful. So, we will have to wait and see."

Harry and the others wordlessly turned to go but he heard Mac say to Mr. Weasley, "Wands out I think," as they left the ward.

Sunday morning was cloudy and the wind had picked up. As soon as Harry rose from bed, he was keen to go visit Remus. He did not bother waking Ron, but dressed quickly and hurried to the hospital wing. Harry pulled open the door and slipped in silently. He did not want to be sent away by the matron before having a chance to look in on Remus. Harry rapped quietly on the door to the little private room. He heard a chair scrap inside and the door was opened by a sleepy looking Bill Weasley.

"Oh, Harry! I was expecting my replacement. Charlie was going to take the next shift," Bill said with a yawn. "Come in."

"How is he?" asked Harry in a whisper.

"He hasn't come around yet, but he's been sleeping quietly. Conner decided we could go on with only one guard until tonight."

"Do you think the cure worked?" asked Harry.

Bill sank back onto the wooden chair next to Remus's bed. "You know it's too soon to tell, Harry. Tonight is when we'll know for certain. I think it looks good so far. Conner seems pleased. Remus will owe you quite a debt if it did work."

Harry nodded absently. He simply hoped that whatever they had done had not made Remus worse. He looked deathly pale lying under the white sheets and even Harry could tell that his old teacher's breathing was very shallow.

When nightfall came again, it was to find all six men again assembled around Lupin's hospital bed. Mac had opened the curtains fully so that the moonlight would fall directly upon Lupin. It was the final test. Remus had not yet awakened and Harry found this worrisome, although Mac and Madam Pomfrey did not appear to be concerned.

Mac said "Wands out," and they each raised their wand in nervous anticipation. Mac extinguished the candles and they waited in darkness to see if the experiment was successful. Slowly, moonlight streamed in through the window, making a rectangular pattern on the stone floor. The light moved across the room as the moon outside arced upward over the low cloud cover. Soon the light slid over the bed, covering the unmoving man in ghostly light.

Lupin's eyes suddenly sprang open and he scrambled into a sitting position, gasping. The men tensed and six wands were extended a bit further toward him. He pulled his hands toward his face, turning them over in the moonlight. He looked directly through the window at the great cold moon and then, to Harry's astonishment, he laughed. "It worked!" he gasped. "It worked." The room full of men broke into excited talk. Harry heard none of it. He continued to stare at Lupin, whose laughter had changed to tears, his face wet and exultant at the same time. "Thank you," he said to the room in general. "Thank you," he repeated, looking into Harry's eyes.

It was hard to dampen Harry's mood over the next week. Lupin spent a few days recovering in the hospital wing, but was soon back teaching his class. There was something different about him now that the curse had been lifted. Harry was sure he looked younger. There was certainly a spring in his step.

"You'll get credit for this discovery, Harry," said Hermione as they waited for Magical Beings class to begin. "Any werewolf can be cured now. This is history making," she said. Harry did not care about all that, he just grinned at Remus as he came into the classroom looking healthy and happy.

By the end of the following week, the school in general had heard the news and the Daily Prophet had run a story about the newly discovered potion. They of course, got the story mostly wrong. The Ministry was credited with unearthing the potion and the ritual, and Mac was threatening to storm the office of the Daily Prophet to make them give Harry the credit. Harry did not care. As he went off to bed, he was satisfied knowing Remus was well.

Harry's four-poster, with its velvet hangings closed, was a snug and dark cocoon. When light flared inside it in the middle of the night, he jumped and scrambled to a sitting position, shielding his eyes. The light was extinguished, which did not help, for now the blackness showed no outlines as Harry tried to rub away the residual effects of the brief glare of light from his eyes.

A voice whispered in the dark in an agitated way. "Harry, you have to wake up!" it was saying. "You have to help me!"

Harry recognized the desperation in the tone of the voice and realized it was Ginny. "What is it," he asked hoarsely, still trying to shake off the wooly feeling of sleep and to bring the room into focus. He reached for his glasses.

"It's back, Harry. I can feel it. I can feel him trying to….to draw me to him or something. Please get up Harry." There was raw fear in her voice.

He struggled to comprehend why she was there and what _it's back_ might mean. He rubbed his eyes hard. "Umm, Ginny, it's all right, he said in as comforting a tone as he could manage. As this was happening, Harry suddenly understood what she meant. "The mark...it's back?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yes, I think it is. I can feel something there," sniffed Ginny. "You have to look Harry," she said imploringly.

Harry was aware of Neville snoring lightly across the room. Ron rolled over in the next bed, muttering. It would be best he thought to get out of the dormitory room and into a place with more light. He climbed from his bed in the darkness and picked up his wand, which he stuck into the waistband of his pajamas. Then he led Ginny by the hand out on to the landing, closing the door behind them.

In the dim glow from the candles lighting the stairs he could see that Ginny's red hair was rather wildly disheveled. She was wearing some overly large pajamas that might have been hand-me-downs from one of her brothers. They were maroon paisley. Harry tried to think. He rubbed his eyes again. As his brain began to click into gear, he knew he would need more light. An idea came to him. "Come on," he said, leading the way down the spiral stairs. "Tell me what happened."

Ginny looked as frightened as he had ever seen her as they moved down the stairs. "I was asleep," she started obviously trying hard to control her rising panic. "I was having a dream…something silly…then everything went black. In my dream, I felt really scared, I couldn't find light. Then I saw a death eater mask. It came closer and closer. I couldn't move. Then the mask melted away and behind it was his face." Ginny blanched, "Lucius Malfoy's face. Then the voices started again in my head, as they did when I was being held in Knockturn Alley. I could see Malfoy's lips moving telling me things, giving me orders…I don't know. All I could hear were the sound of the voices and I couldn't make out what they were saying."

Harry had stopped at the very next landing which was the dormitory room designated for the new first year boys. There were no first year Gryffindors this year, so the room was unoccupied. When she paused, he pushed the door open, and they moved inside. Harry lit his wand and a faint light illuminated the space. He lit the candles around the room with a wave of his wand. Ginny's face was damp with tears, or sweat, or both. Harry started to open his mouth, but Ginny stopped him.

"That's not all Harry," she said, her voice nearly a whisper now. "I woke up standing in the common room and I had my wand out. I don't know what he'd told me to do, but I keep thinking of being controlled by Riddle. He could have made me do anything, I think. I could have hurt someone, Harry."

"It's ok, Ginny, really," he said in what he hoped was a comforting way. "Let's have a look, shall we? I mean, perhaps you just had a bad dream or something." This was a very lame thing to say and she shot him the briefest of pained looks as she turned her back to him and pulled up the back of her pajama top. Harry bent down a bit, pulling the back of her pajamas out of the way.

The mark was definitely back. Not only back, but now even more pronounced than it had been at Godric's Hollow. The angry red welts defined a cruel looking symbol, which marked Ginny as a slave of Lucius Malfoy. He ran his fingers over it with a sick feeling in his stomach. Lucius Malfoy had again called the curse down on Ginny and Harry had to act fast, before she went the same way as Percy.

He let out his breath and looked quickly at his watch. It was two in the morning. It was at least four hours until first morning light. There was no point in traipsing all over the castle in search of a teacher, or the headmaster, or even awakening Madam Pomfrey. He knew what needed to be done after all, and this room would serve as well as any. In the morning, he would get Dumbledore.

"Harry?" asked Ginny tentatively.

"Yes, it's back," he said. He felt her shiver. He hadn't taken his eyes off the mark; hateful thing that it was.

"Take my wand Harry, before I hurt someone."

Harry took the wand she offered him and laid it aside. He wrapped his arms around her and felt her wet cheek against his chest as he hugged her. "I'm going to do the counter-curse, Ginny. We'll just stay in here for the next few hours, shall we?" He felt her nod.

She was breathing hard. Through gritted teeth she said, "I can't let that filth, Malfoy control me. I won't let him. Do what ever you have to do," she said. "Do it before it gets worse."

Harry ripped open the curtains from the nearest four-poster and had Ginny climb onto it. His experience with this curse told him Ginny might scream when he did the counter-curse, so he performed a silencing spell to keep their voices from being heard outside the room. Ginny lay down with her back to Harry and hugged a pillow to her chest. Harry had done this awkward spell often enough to know the best way to perform it. He pointed his wand and murmured the counter-curse, "Non stigma servitum," and then dropped his wand as he flattened his hand against the mark.

The icy sensation he remembered from the last time snaked up his arm and into his shoulder, then rippled across his back. The feeling was very strong this time. At the same time, Ginny gasped and bit down hard on the edge of the pillow, curling herself up into a tight ball. She seemed to be willing herself not to fight him. She was breathing very hard, then a long low moan escaped her, and he was force to hold her down as she struggled against him. Soon the feeling in Harry's arm died away. He relaxed and removed his hand. Ginny was shaking violently and Harry climbed on to the bed next to her and held her tightly until she took a great shuddering breath and slumped limply into unconsciousness.

Harry pulled back the blankets and laid Ginny under them on her side. The he inspected the mark again. It was a bit fainter then it had been at first, but it was still more pronounced then it had ever been at Godric's Hollow. Harry shifted Ginny slightly and covered her up. He crossed to the door and locked it, although he didn't think anyone was likely to come in here. Then he stepped to the window and looked out across the grounds, bathed in pale moon light.

"Damn Lucius Malfoy," he snarled into the darkness. Why couldn't he have left her alone? As he looked out across the dark grounds, not really seeing them, a momentary pin pick of light flashed from a spot along the tree line near the gates, or at least he thought it had. When he strained his eyes into the darkness, it was not there.

For the next hour, Harry sat and watched over Ginny. Then without attempting to rouse her, he performed the spell again. She did wake though, and gave a small scream before gritting her teeth and tightening once again into a ball. When he was done, he asked, "How do you feel?"

"Very weak," she relied. "Very, very weak." She went limp again but managed to say, "Thanks," before lapsing into oblivion.

Harry was feeling especially tired. Still he had to mind Ginny and not let her get up or attempt to leave the room. As he snapped awake for the third time in five minutes, he decided to charm his watch to wake him on the hour. Harry climbed onto the bed with Ginny and laid down next to her, throwing his arm over her. He was sure he'd notice if she moved, and he drifted into a restless sleep.

He was waltzing with Ginny in a large empty ballroom. The edges of the room were dark. He was wearing a white suit and she, a long white dress. They were smiling at each other as he guided her gracefully around the dance floor. Suddenly the hand he had against her back felt wet, and when he raised it, he saw it was covered in blood. There was blood on the back of her white dress too. Two figures seemed to be watching from the shadows, unmoving, as the music spun crazily out of control. Harry began to scream soundlessly as Ginny slumped in his arms.

Harry sat bolt up right on the bed and saw to his horror that Ginny was gone.

Harry leapt off the bed looking wildly around the room. Why had he tried to do this alone? Her wand was missing and the dormitory door was standing open. Harry grabbed up his own wand and was about to run from the room when a premonition overtook him. He tore to the window. The pin- point of light had re-appeared, and was visible near the tree line by the gates. Harry swore as he spun around and sprinted down the stairs.


	11. The Conspiracy

**Chapter Ten – The Conspiracy**

Harry didn't pay attention to the amount of noise he was making as he ran down the dormitory stairs and across the common room, banging into furniture and tipping over a table as he passed. He charged furiously through the portrait hole, causing the Fat Lady to shriek in terror. Out in the corridor, Harry streaked through the chill darkness of the castle, wheeling along down staircases and hallways, toward the front doors. All he knew was that he had to reach Ginny before she reached that tiny light outside the castle gates.

Why hadn't he called Dumbledore at once? If she died, if she was taken again, it would be entirely his fault. He had been so sure he could manage the curse on his own. Harry swore at himself repeatedly as he ran. Why, he asked himself, didn't he learn? Either he trusted in his own competence too much, or not enough.

In the entrance hall, the front doors were slightly ajar and he slammed through them and out on to the lawn. Clad in his pajamas, his bare feet met crunchy, frost-covered ground, but he did not feel the cold. The wintry air met his sweaty tee shirt and set his teeth chattering. He gritted his teeth and just kept pelting toward the gates, now gasping to take in the freezing air, a sharp pain piercing his side.

Where were the house elves, Harry wondered? Shouldn't someone be on duty in the grounds? Surely the gates were being guarded.

As he pounded toward the entrance to the school grounds, he raised his wand. The iron gates were standing open, and in the watery moonlight, Harry could see a form moving steadily toward them. Ginny had not reached the gates yet. There might still be a chance to stop her. Harry tried to call out Ginny's name but couldn't summon enough breath to make a sound, so he continued to run as fast as he could, gasping as he went, toward the serenely moving figure.

Ginny stepped through the gates before Harry could reach them. Silhouetted in the dark road beyond was a tall, cloaked figure with its wand raised. To his horror, Harry saw Ginny walking calmly toward the hooded wizard. Anger roared up in Harry's chest. "No!" he exhaled, his throat burning, and he plunged forward.

The hooded figure raised its gaze from Ginny, staring into the darkness. The unmistakable features of Lucius Malfoy met Harry's gaze. "Ginny, stop! Wake up Ginny! STOP!" Harry rasped breathlessly as he too crossed the boundary of Hogwarts' lawn and out into the road. Harry felt his feet knocked out from under him as he entered the lane. Instinct and Quidditch training took over, and he tumbled, scrambling back to his feet.

Malfoy flicked his wand in Harry's direction and Harry instinctively dropped to the ground and rolled, as a spell shot past him. It missed him somehow. With difficulty, Harry breathed, "Stupefy," still barely able to give voice to the spell. Malfoy parried with a shield charm, and although his spell missed its mark, it still had the effect that Harry wanted. Ginny had stopped moving, and stood stock still in the road about twenty feet from Malfoy.

Harry clambered back to his feet, intent on putting himself between Malfoy and Ginny. He charged forward, pushing Ginny behind him.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted a voice from the trees next to the road, and before Harry could react, his wand flew from his grip. Harry was standing with his hands empty facing Malfoy and watching as a second black hooded shape emerged from the darkness into the moonlight.

"Now we have two captives, my friend! Potter and the Weasley girl too," said Malfoy with a sneer. "In fact, this could be just the thing we were hoping for."

Harry had no idea what this meant. He just wanted to get his wand and get Ginny back, safe inside the castle. His choices tonight were going badly wrong.

"Your master doesn't need Ginny," said Harry. "Let her go, and I'll come along without a fight." Harry was desperate and this seemed the best ploy.

"As you can see, Lucius, even when he is unarmed and helpless, Potter still thinks he has a bargaining position," said a dark and dangerous voice from the second cloaked figure. Harry recognized the voice immediately and a thrill of dread swept through him. Severus Snape slowly lowered his hood.

"Voldemort will want me more than Ginny. Just let her go," said Harry, knowing how desperate he sounded.

Snape had inclined his head toward Malfoy, and whispered something, not taking his eyes off Harry. Malfoy nodded at whatever Snape had said.

"Severus makes a fine point, Potter. We can serve you up to Lord Voldemort again and receive warm congratulations from him," said Malfoy. "Voldemort's inability to kill you has proved a good diversion."

"Yes, so much power and he squanders his time trying to work out what a filthy teenage boy could possibly do to him," sneered Snape.

"What are you on about," asked Harry still panting.

"If we learn the prophecy from this one," Malfoy said, pointing his wand toward Ginny, who remained still as stone. "It will be the key to bringing down _Lord_ Voldemort. The Dark Lord will have another chance at killing you, while we have the real information."

Harry was not sure what they meant. It seemed obvious that Death Eaters would want to take him to Voldemort, but Malfoy was talking of destroying Voldemort. He was sure he had misunderstood. "Why not let Ginny go. She doesn't know anything. I'm the one who knows the prophecy," said Harry, certain they would not agree.

"Why, Potter, you really are dense," said Snape. "You have been strolling around the castle like a moon struck calf. No one could miss it. It was not difficult to find out the object of your affection. Knowing you, we surmised that you would have told Ms. Weasley the prophecy," smiled Snape. "The Dark Lord was quite interested in this and we thought he would solve our problem for us. But Ms. Weasley here proved much more difficult to break than anticipated."

"Solve your problem?" asked Harry, completely confused by the entire conversation. "What problem?"

"We don't know the contents of the prophecy either, Potter. We need to know what it reveals before we strike down the two wizards in our way," said Snape.

"Potter, do you think we've done this on behalf of the Dark Lord?" Malfoy laughed a cold cruel laugh.

Harry was only half listening. He was much more concerned with how to get hold of his wand. "What do you mean?" he asked, not really caring about the answer. If he could get Malfoy to talk, he would have time to think about how to get Ginny out of this predicament.

Lucius Malfoy apparently wanted to explain. "The Dark Lord is obsessed with you Potter, and with that damned prophecy. It eats away at him constantly. It distracts him and causes him to make errors in judgment. For example, it was nothing short of foolishness to send Death Eaters into the heart of the Ministry in the hope of laying hands on the prophecy."

"It will be his downfall," spat Snape.

Malfoy inclined his head toward Snape, "We, that is Severus and I, have a clear and achievable goal. It does not hang upon divination."

"Oh ya?" said Harry. "What is it you two want?"

"Why, we want wizard kind to dominate muggles and non-humans. That was the original point of the Death Eaters and we are still true to that vision. We have not lost our focus, as the Dark Lord has," said Malfoy.

"And you think your boss is going to let you go on with that, on your own? I thought he was in charge of everything," taunted Harry, knowing how hollow it sounded as his teeth chattered uncontrollably in the cold. He had managed to move slightly and now was blocking Ginny from Malfoy.

Malfoy laughed, "Not so. In fact, Severus recently killed one of the Dark Lord's loyal supporters."

"Ahh, yes," said Snape casually. "Poor Peter. He thought he was rescuing me on the Dark Lord's orders. Lucius had sent him to do it of course, so I killed him once I was freed."

"So the two of you are working together against him?" Harry said.

"Severus and I don't need the Dark Lord to achieve our ends," said Malfoy, imperiously. "We are quite powerful wizards on our own," bragged Malfoy. "The Dark Lord, powerful though he is, can be reckless and rash. He pushes his minions too far. He holds himself in too high a regard, and I did not reach my position in the wizarding world without hedging my bets."

"What position have you reached, Malfoy? You've been in and out of Azkaban for over a year now. You're wanted by the Ministry, and you're on the run. You're nothing without your master tugging on your leash," Harry retorted. "And you," he said looking at Snape, "You're a traitor. Dumbledore trusted you and you betrayed him."

"Now, now, Potter," said the soft, dangerous voice that made Harry go cold. Snape spoke into the stillness, "We don't need Lord Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore to get what we want. They are but a means to an end. Lucius and I had always imagined, and actually counted on the fact that the one would annihilate the other. Then we could simply remove the remaining one and have a clear field."

Snape crossed his arms and continued, "Strangely enough, Dumbledore refused to engage the Dark Lord. No matter how ugly the situation became, Dumbledore would do no more than simply hold him at bay. It took us a while to realize that this prophecy was somehow connected to his unusual reaction. We always believed him powerful enough to vanquish Voldemort, but he never seemed to try. He also never disclosed his reasons, the batty old fool. He was more than willing to send his loyal Order members, myself included, into danger. And although Dumbledore made quite a show of saying he trusted me, he never divulged the prophecy to me, or even brought it up. Since he would not broach the subject, I could not ask. I gave him ample opportunity, too," said Snape with a sneer. "Still it hasn't been easy playing two games at once. Of course it had to be you, Potter, who stepped in the path of our perfect little plan. Escaping St. Mungos and giving Dumbledore evidence against me has proved…inconvenient."

It was difficult not to appreciate the fact that Snape had deceived two of the greatest wizards of the age and avoided detection completely up until being unmasked by Harry. Even then, everyone had gotten it wrong. Snape and Malfoy were out for their own ends and had their own agenda.

"Yes," said Malfoy evilly, "I was forced to show my hand a bit and demonstrate the mark. It's a bit of really clever and ancient magic, don't you think, Potter? I had intended to get the prophecy from the Weasley brat when we were alone, so I could decide how to use it, but Wormtail was set to watch her day and night, and report to Lord Voldemort. The little blood-traitor never gave it up." He said this almost admiringly, "Amazing, really."

"So now we have a new plan, Potter," said Snape. "We'll turn you over to be killed. Whatever the prophecy says will not matter, since once you are dead, Dumbledore will have to face the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord dies in the attempt to kill you, then so much the better."

"That's your plan, then?" asked Harry. "You think if you turn me over to him that I wouldn't give your little side arrangement away to him? You don't think he'll know I'm telling the truth when I do?"

"Potter, you are so very short sighted," said Snape, obviously enjoying this immensely. "There are several ways we can present you to the Dark Lord whereby you would not be able to communicate with him. By the time we hand you over, your mind will be worthless to him. But first, some fun I think. I've always wanted to do this, Potter, since the first day you stepped foot in my classroom." Snape screwed up the side of his face into an ugly sneer and yelled, "Crucio!"

Harry was hit full on by the Unforgivable curse. He dropped to the ground and rolled on to his hands and knees, trying to fight off the blinding pain that was coursing through his body. It felt as though sharp blades were stabbing him from every direction. When Snape lifted the curse, Harry slumped to the hard cold ground, breathing with difficulty. Malfoy and Snape were both laughing.

Harry could not let this happen. He had to get his wand back and he had to fight them. He had to save Ginny. Harry gritted his teeth and got slowly back to his knees.

"Crucio!" came the curse again, before Harry could gather his wits about him. He writhed on the ground unable to escape the pain of it. It stopped again, and Harry struggled to rise on to his knees. Ginny was right there behind him as still as stone. Then he felt it… a jab in his arm… the one closest to Ginny. The jab came again. Harry moved to block Ginny's hand from view. He took a deep steadying breath and moved his hand, unseen toward hers. Her hand was warm as his fingers closed around hers; she moved her hand slowly away, leaving her wand in its place. His hand clasped tightly around it in the darkness. Harry willed his mind to clear. He rocked back to sit on the ground, trying to block out the lingering pain.

Malfoy and Snape were conversing in lowered voices. Harry reckoned they thought they had both he and Ginny completely under their control.

"Finish it Lucius. I don't fancy standing here in the cold any longer," Snape was saying. "Just make her give us the prophecy, then we can break Potter's mind and take him to the Dark Lord. We still have another job to do tonight."

"Yes," Malfoy replied. "We may as well take her with us, too. She'll be no threat as she won't be able to recall any of this conversation. She'll come along quietly, and he can waste his energies trying to break her." Malfoy let out a laugh like a hiss.

Snape laughed too. "The Dark Lord is a great fool."

Harry took a deep breath and waved Ginny's wand. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted.

Malfoy's wand flew suddenly into the air. Snape managed to hang on to his, but only just. "Accio!" said Harry, and his own wand flew into his left hand. Harry quickly shoved Ginny's wand back into her hand and waved his own again, "Protego!" he said knowing Snape would not wait to strike, and indeed a spell was deflected.

Harry felt Ginny move away from him. He wanted to get her down on the ground but Snape was advancing on him, fire in his black eyes. "Petrificus Totalus," he growled. Harry ducked and the spell missed him. He sprang forward, but his foot skidded on something in the dirt that snapped in two. Harry got his footing and brought his wand down to curse Snape, but his spell hit empty air. Snape had disapparated. He was gone.

Harry spun toward Ginny who had closed on Lucius Malfoy. "You filth!" she was screaming, but Malfoy was looking wildly around for something. It must have been Malfoy's wand that Harry stepped on in the grass. Ginny slashed her wand through the air crying "Diffindo." Then without a pause she repeated the action slicing in the opposite direction. Purple fire slashed across Malfoy's chest in a huge "X" that remained there fading slowly in the darkness. Harry saw Malfoy, slumping as if in slow motion to his knees and clutching at his chest. Then he fell forward onto the ground, a look of utter surprise gracing his pale grey eyes. Ginny stood motionless with her wand pointed at him.

Harry was panting hard, still not recovered from his sprint from the castle nor the effects of the Cruciatus curse. He bent over with his hands on his knees and tried to get breath enough to speak. There near his foot was Malfoy's wand, snapped in half. Harry realized he must have stepped on it as he battled Snape. Ginny seemed frozen in space, staring at Malfoy's body. In a moment, Harry straightened and approached Ginny, "You...you alright?" he asked.

Ginny turned toward him looking as though she were emerging from a dream. She shook her head slightly and looked into Harry's eyes. "Did I kill him?'" she asked.

Harry stepped to the side of Malfoy's prone body and crouched down beside him. The Death Eater did not move nor did he have a pulse that Harry could detect. Looking up at her, he rose to his feet. Harry took her shoulders and turned her around gently, then lifted her pajama top a bit until he could see her back. There was no mark. Harry checked more carefully. Only an hour before the mark had been clearly visible, its reddish symbols raised on Ginny's skin. Now, nothing of it remained; no scar, or mark of any kind. Ginny twisted to see, "Is it gone?" she asked excitedly. "That's it then, I killed him and it's gone!"

Harry smiled at her and pulled her close to him. Only now did he realize that the chill air was making his exposed skin numb. His feet hurt from running barefoot. Ginny was barefoot too and was now shivering. "What exactly happened?" he asked. "I mean, you gave me your wand. I thought you were under the curse."

"Well," she began, pulling back from him a little. "I sort of woke up and found myself out on the lawn like this," she picked up the collar of her pajamas. "I could feel him calling me," and she looked down at the body at her feet. "I don't know how it happened, perhaps because you had started lifting the curse, but I could tell that I could resist him, if I wanted to. It was easy to just go where he was willing me, but I knew I could fight him. I was going to pull away and run back to the castle, when I realized it was my chance to capture him, and maybe get the curse lifted. So I let him summon me."

Harry's face probably showed his opposition to her having engaged in such a dangerous move, because she continued, "I know it was probably foolish, but I thought if I kept my wand concealed until I got in front of him, I could do it. I didn't count on Snape…or on you following me." Ginny got a hard, fierce look on her face. She poked a toe at the lifeless body. "He's dead, and he won't be able to curse anyone else ever again. I'm glad."

Harry could not help smiling at her. "No, he definitely deserved it. Still, Ginny, you heard the two of them. They know about us, and Voldemort used that against you. I have to try to finish Voldemort and I have to do it soon."

She hugged him tightly and he felt her shiver.

"It's cold, let's get back to the castle," said Harry. "Snape could be bringing Death Eaters back for all we know." She nodded and they turned back to the gate. It was hard to see in the dark and Harry almost trod upon two small limp bodies near the gate. Bending down, he found two house elves. "They must have been the guards," he said sadly, for they were certainly dead.

Harry lifted them up and moved them off the road and under the trees. Then they approached the gate. It wasn't until Harry actually pushed against it that he realized Snape must have locked the gates behind him. No doubt, he had felt it cut off the escape route. Harry knew they wouldn't easily get back onto the grounds, not at this time of the night. They were locked out and it was still hours until sunrise.

"Damn," said Harry.

"What should we do?" asked Ginny.

Harry thought for a second, but the cold was beginning to sap his energy and his ability to think clearly. "I guess we could get ourselves into Hogsmeade. We could wake someone up there." Ginny nodded, her teeth now chattering. Harry put his arm around her and they jogged off miserably down the dark road in hopes of finding shelter and warmth.

Hogsmeade did seem like the only option. He and Ginny slowed quickly to a walk as the combination of frost, rocks and brambles bruised and cut their bare feet. Their breath was forming mist in the chill air. This was no good, thought Harry. As they groped their way down the dark road, an idea occurred to Harry. There was an old abandoned cabin along the road into Hogsmeade. Harry had noticed it many times, as he had passed by on the way to the village. It stood back from the road and was completely overgrown with vines, and mostly hidden from view by wild looking, bushy, un-pruned trees.

He knew Hogsmeade was still a long walk and they needed heat now. In fact, they were not talking to each other as they tried to conserve their own body heat. Harry squinted in the darkness until he found the narrow path to the old house. He grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her along behind him. Trees had overgrown the path and now snagged their clothes as they hurried forward. The battered old building loomed black as they climbed two rickety steps. The warped wooden door was difficult to push open. Inside was a dry dusty room that was nearly empty, save for a stone fireplace, some broken chairs and some old rags. One small grimy window allowed a pale ray of light in toward the rear of the cabin. The whole thing was covered in about an inch of dust.

Harry threw a few sticks of wood into the fireplace from a small pile stacked near the hearth, and then ignited it with his wand. The warmth felt wonderful and they both huddled in front of it. There was no sound in the dark cabin but the crackling of the fire. Harry wished he had his communication mirror on him, or even a bit of floo powder. He did not fancy waiting here for hours until they could find someone to get them back inside the school grounds. However, the fire soon thawed them out, and as they rubbed their sore, cut, frozen feet, Harry relaxed a bit.

Ginny looked over at him. "I think we'll be ok here," she said, a bit of a question in her voice. As he was about to answer, he picked up a noise beyond the cabin walls. It sounded like distant shouts.

Harry immediately suspected the worse. What if Snape had returned bringing reinforcements? After all, the man was still playing the part of a loyal Death Eater. Using his earth spell, Harry waved his hand around the room and the accumulated dust within the cabin flew into the air and fell upon the fire, smothering it. Harry and Ginny dived behind an old overturned table where they laid waiting.

They didn't have long to wait. Harsh voices were heard through the thin boards of the cabin. Someone was searching the area. Harry heard the name _Potter_ several times. Suddenly, with a bang, the door of the cabin burst open. Harry could see the doorway through a small crack in the table. Two figures were silhouetted there. "They haven't come in here, it's empty," said a voice that that Harry recognized, although he was amazed to hear it here and amongst a group of Death eaters. It was the voice of Ludo Bagman. Harry strained to see more clearly.

"I can see it's empty," said Snape's voice, a second pair of boots making the steps creak. "We'll never find them in this infernal darkness. Well, never mind about Potter. We need to get into the village and…." His voice was muffled.

"I can't be seen with this raiding party, Snape," said Bagman. Harry wanted to leap up and curse the both of them. Ginny must have known what he was thinking for she held Harry back by the shoulder. The Ministry itself was infiltrated with Death Eaters. Harry needed to get this information to the Order, and fast.

"You'll do as you are told," said Snape, "As I do," he added softly.

What a liar thought Harry.

Bagman started to object and the cabin door slammed shut.

As the sound died away, Ginny made to rise but Harry pulled her back down. There were more sounds outside. "I asked if you bothered to look inside." The speaker was unknown to Harry.

The door was opened again, and heavy boots stepped into the room. Whoever had entered seemed to be sniffing the air. A voice out in the lane called, "Get to the village, now! And be quick about it." The door closed again.

Harry exchanged a look with Ginny. They couldn't go back to school and they couldn't go out onto the road to Hogsmeade, not yet. They'd have to stay put for a while. Harry whispered this to Ginny who nodded in the darkness. They huddled together, taking what warmth they could from each other as they waited for the lane to clear.

Harry snapped awake with a start. Ginny was sleeping with her head against his chest and her hands up under his tee shirt for warmth. He moved his arm, bringing his wrist close to his face so he could check the time on his watch. They had been hiding here for half an hour. Dawn was not too far off. If they could get to the Hogshead, Harry knew Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother, would be able to let them into the workroom and they could get back into Hogwarts from there. Harry wondered if the bar would be open at this hour and if the Death Eaters had given up yet.

They couldn't wait here forever. They had important information for the Order. Harry looked down at Ginny, even now, with dust in her hair and wearing dirt stained pajamas, she was a vision to him. He was worried though. She had killed a man tonight, a man who had tortured and cursed her. While he reckoned she could handle almost anything, he wondered how she would feel about the killing once the reality of it sank in. He himself did not like to re-live the moment when he had been forced to kill two Death Eaters the previous year.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. Ginny stirred and blinked up at him, questioningly. "Let's try to get into the village," he whispered. Ginny nodded and got up to her knees. Harry stood and offered her his hand, pulling her up next to him. She brushed herself off and shook back her hair.

"Ready," she said bravely.

The walk into the village was not pleasant. The air was still very cold and they were still barefooted. In the pre-dawn darkness, it was difficult to avoid the tree roots and potholes along the rutted road. They stumbled often. At one point, Ginny fell, ripping the knee of her pajamas as they hurried toward the village. A strange orange glow had appeared over the trees, and as they drew near to Hogsmeade, Harry heard screaming voices being carried on the night wind.

Coming out of the wooded area into the clear at the edge of town, they saw to their horror that Hogsmeade was on fire. Harry stood, with his mouth open as he watched people running, water being sprayed from wand tips onto burning buildings, and Death Eaters cursing those who they caught in the street.

"What now?" asked Ginny in a whisper.

"I'm so stupid!" said Harry, hitting himself on the forehead. "We can apparate! I completely forgot! We can both do it, can't we?"

Ginny looked astounded. Of course they could. Ginny had been taught at the end of summer even though she was not yet seventeen. "But… not back to Hogwarts," she said slowly.

"No," said Harry. "We need to tell the Order about this right away." He tossed the possibilities around in his head. "The Burrow," he said with finality. "Your dad is who we can tell."

"Let's go, then," said Ginny immediately.

Raucous voices penetrated the darkness. They were coming from behind Harry and Ginny, from down the dark road. "C'mon, we have to move. Can you manage?" asked Harry.

Ginny said, "Of course. You go first and I'll follow."

Harry did not like this arrangement, however he knew it would be easier for Ginny to end up in the right location, if he went first. "Alright, but go immediately, ok?" She nodded. Harry apparated and almost instantly found himself in the familiar yard in front of the Burrow. Ginny was a split second behind him, but the brief pause before she materialized was agony. Without further words, he grabbed her hand and they ran toward the house.

Harry held the door for Ginny and they entered the warm Weasley kitchen. A candle burned on the scrubbed wooden table, and the smell of cooking permeated the room. "Mum! Dad!" yelled Ginny. Harry dropped down into a chair letting the comforting smells wash over him. A sound of rustling and of feet on the stairs proceeded Molly and Arthur Weasley. The elder Weasleys were dressed in nightclothes and wrapped in dressing gowns. Mrs. Weasley shrieked in shock as she looked upon her daughter and Harry. They were both cut and dirty, their pajamas torn and snagged. Harry was sure they looked a frightful mess.

"What…happened to you?" she spluttered, rushing forward.

"Ginny, Harry," boomed Mr. Weasley, "Why are you here? Is something wrong at school?"

Taking it in turns, Ginny and Harry related the events of the night very quickly. Mrs. Weasley kept gasping and exclaiming as they talked. Both Harry and Ginny ignored her. The point was to fill Mr. Weasley in so he could contact the Order. "Mr. Weasley," said Harry rushing on to the conclusion, "the main thing is that Hogsmeade is on fire. The Death Eaters are burning everything."

Mr. Weasley spun on the spot and grabbed up a small square mirror from the counter. He spoke into it. "Dumbledore!"

A second later, a voice could be heard issuing from the small mirror. Arthur walked into the next room, out of earshot. Harry was too exhausted to care. Mrs.Weasley was bustling around, trying to heal Ginny's cuts and scrapes.

"I don't understand," she began as she fussed to repair a tear in Ginny's pajama leg. "Lucius Malfoy is dead? That means one of you…," she trailed off. "Oh dear…," she cried, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh dear." She hugged Ginny tightly, who looked over at Harry with a pained and fatigued expression. Harry suspected that the reality of the life she had taken was catching up with her. They had glossed over the killing of Lucius Malfoy in their rush to fill Mr. Weasley in on the situation in Hogsmeade. They had not said which of them had accomplished it.

Harry pushed himself heavily up from the table and went into the next room where Mr.Weasley was standing, talking into the mirror. "Mr. Weasley," said Harry in a low voice. "You should know that Lucius Malfoy's body is just outside the gates of the school. There are two dead house elves near the gate too. Also, Ludo Bagman was with the Death Eaters. He was taking orders from Snape."

Arthur Weasley was looking at Harry with his mouth open. "The Minister of Magic?" he said incredulously. "Did you get all of that?" he asked the mirror.

"Yes," was the response.

Mr.Weasley pocketed the mirror. "I must go to Hogsmeade immediately. The Ministry aurors are on their way now. First though Harry, I must know, is Ginny free of Malfoy's curse?"

"Yes sir, I think she is. The mark was back earlier tonight and it was really strong, but once Malfoy died, it completely disappeared," said Harry. "Sir, it was my fault she got out of the castle. I thought I could…"

Mr. Weasley cut across him. "I thank you Harry, for getting Ginny back here safely. Whatever happened tonight, she is alive. It's more than poor Percy… Well…I'm very grateful to you." Mr. Weasley patted Harry on the back in a fatherly sort of way. Harry thought he detected tears glistening in Arthur Weasley's eyes. He coughed and cleared his throat, "In five minutes, you and Ginny will be able to take the floo network to the fire in Dumbledore's office. It is all arranged. The Order will take care of everything else," said Mr. Weasley. "Now I have to go."

Molly Weasley was most reluctant to allow Ginny and Harry to leave the Burrow in their condition. She kept going on and on about how it was a miracle they had both survived. However, Mr. Weasley was quite firm about the arrangements and she relented, grudgingly. Mr. Weasley stuck his wand in his cloak pocket and after kissing his wife and daughter on the forehead, apparated with a pop.

Harry and Ginny moved wearily to the fireplace taking a pinch of floo powder each, from the flowerpot on the mantle. "You two look completely done in," fussed Mrs. Weasley. "I don't see why you can't stay here and have a good sleep at the very least." Harry registered her anger but was too tired to comment. The warmth of the kitchen had made him very groggy.

Harry smiled weakly at Mrs. Weasley, tossed the powder into the flames, and then stepped into the fire and saying, "Dumbledore's office." He spun past many darkened rooms finally sliding out into the headmaster's office seconds later. Ginny arrived in short order and they were met by Dumbledore, who was dressed in a traveling cloak.

"Very good," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. He looked old and more wrinkled than ever. There was tension in his eyes, but he did not look tired or ill. "Do you know, Ms. Weasley that you have a twig in your hair?" Dumbledore smiled down at her. "I hope I am right in thinking that the curse placed upon you has now been lifted?" Ginny nodded and Harry shook his head almost imperceptibly in agreement. "I will return within the hour, please do not leave this office until I return." Dumbledore conjured two camp cots complete with blankets and pillows then left through the door, which he closed softly behind him.

The frosty windows of the office showed an uncommonly orange sky to the south. It was too early for sunrise, thought Harry and entirely in the wrong direction. He strode to the casement, pressing his face against the glass for a better view. The orange light was coming from the fires in Hogsmeade. He looked over to mention this to Ginny and saw she was already curling up on one of the camp beds. Harry went over and perched on the edge of her bed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, although she didn't smile, "really I am."

"You killed an evil wizard tonight who had cursed you and who would have killed you," Harry said to her.

"I…I know," she said, pulling a blanket around her. Harry bent and kissed her cheek, then brushed her hair from her face.

"I just wish I had killed Snape," he said. Ginny did not answer but pulled the blankets closer around her. Harry flopped down on the second cot and was asleep almost before he pulled the blankets over himself.

The closing of the door brought Harry back out of an uneasy sleep. How many minutes or hours had passed, he did not know. Harry rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses. The sky was now light. Dumbledore was hanging his traveling cloak away behind the door, looking weary.

He sighed loudly as he sunk heavily into his chair behind the great desk. "I am not as young as once I was," said Dumbledore, looking over at Harry.

Harry got up and walked to the window. The orange glow was gone on the horizon, replaced by black smoke, hanging like a cloud over the village. "What happened, sir?" asked Harry.

"The Death Eaters made quite a mess. Not only did they light fires but they brought Dementors with them. The village sustained many losses. At this time, we feel that perhaps five people are dead and many buildings were burned or destroyed," said Dumbledore. "Ministry wizards are there trying to sort everything out."

"Harry, Arthur told me what you told him at the Burrow, but I have several questions as there were a number of holes in the story, owing, I am sure, to the need for haste." Dumbledore removed his half-moon spectacles and began to clean them on the fabric of his robes. "Can you tell me how this all started?"

"It was all my fault, really," said Harry, glancing over at the sleeping Ginny. "I made a mistake sir, and it could have cost Ginny her life."

"That is very dramatic, Harry," said Dumbledore. "She is here, and appears to be fine. Perhaps you should let me judge whether you made a mistake or not."

Harry, smiled weakly at this, and then told the entire story to the headmaster.

"The mark gone, that is excellent news!" said Dumbledore, when Harry had finished. "Sometimes, a man must rely on himself and sometimes he must trust in others. You made a decision. Do not second-guess it now. I respect your choice."

For some reason, this did not bring Harry comfort. It was certainly true that he had made a decision and that Ginny had escaped unharmed, but Dumbledore's words were neutral; they provided neither relief nor guidance. He decided to leave the entire subject of Ginny. "What about Bagman?"

"Are you quite sure it was him, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"I am, sir," said Harry. "I could see him pretty well, even though it was dark. He even told Snape he shouldn't be seen there."

"It would explain a lot," said Dumbledore.

"I could testify before the Wizengamot, or something," said Harry.

"That would not be safe at this time, and I doubt you would be believed," replied Dumbledore, steepling his long fingers and staring off into space. "Bagman has been accused before, and was determined to be innocent."

"But sir…?" began Harry.

Ginny stirred and sat up. "We can discuss this later, Harry. Why don't you two go back to Gryffindor tower and get some sleep. I will inform your teachers that you will be missing classes."

Harry knew he would not get anywhere with the headmaster now. Ginny and Harry proceeded back to Gryffindor tower, receiving strange looks from the few students they passed on the way. The common room was empty, however and Harry made his way to his bed, which looked very inviting.

When Harry had slept a few hours, he got up wanting to find Ron and Hermione to tell them what had happened. As Harry was about to leave the dormitory, Ron came through the door.

"Where have you been?" asked Ron with concern.

"Let's find Hermione and I'll tell you everything," said Harry. It was then he noticed that Neville's trunk was no longer standing beside his bed. Ron must have spotted him looking at Neville's bed.

"Neville's gone," said Ron sadly.

"What?" said Harry. "Why?"

Ron quickly filled Harry in. Neville's mother had come into Hogsmeade for a visit with Neville. Neville had permission to go down to Hogsmeade to meet her and to stay overnight at the Three Broomsticks. When the fires had broken out, she had fled and taken Neville with her. An owl had come in the morning and Professor McGonagall had come to collect Neville's things and send them on to his home.

"Do you think he'll be back?" asked Harry.

"Dunno," said Ron. "There aren't many of us left, are there?" The dormitory room was down to two occupants now. Harry looked around feeling empty.

"Harry!" said a voice from the doorway. Hermione rushed in looking relieved. "Where have you been? Oh! We were so worried."

"Ginny and I..." began Harry.

Hermione chimed in, "Yes, Ginny wasn't at breakfast and I heard she missed her classes…"

"What about Ginny?" demanded Ron suddenly sounding worried.

"She's ok," said Harry. Then he spent the next half hour recounting the events of the previous night. Ron and Hermione gasped as Harry told them about Malfoy and Snape. Harry noticed Hermione clutch Ron's hand as he told the story. The whole adventure had taken no more than a few hours, but it had felt like much longer than that.

"My mum must have been raving when you told her," said Ron.

"We didn't exactly tell her everything," said Harry, "but I told your dad."

"You're both lucky to be alive. Good thing Ginny had her wand," said Ron.

"Good thing she fought off that curse," said Harry.

By the end of the week, another few students had departed. The burning of Hogsmeade had been the main topic in the Daily Prophet. It became apparent that a half dozen aurors who had been set to guard the village had been killed, or knocked out during the attack.

Professor McGonagall pronounced the Death Eaters to be cowardly scum.

Lupin pulled Harry aside and talked to him about the night of the attack. It seemed that Dumbledore had told the Order members about his and Ginny's little adventure. Lupin was of the opinion that Harry should be extra cautious. He was most interested in Snape and Malfoy's plan to overthrow Voldemort and Dumbledore. "They must have been mad," was all he could say.

"If it gets back to Voldemort, Snape's life won't be worth a sickle," said Harry. "I'd still like another go at Snape."

"Harry, forget Snape," said Lupin sternly. "He's not worth it."

On Friday there was to be the regular discussion of current events during pudding. As the main course disappeared and various desserts appeared in front of them, the buzz of talk increased. Dumbledore called for quiet and asked if anyone had a topic to discuss. Parvati's hand shot up. Hermione looked annoyed. Harry knew she thought Parvati a bit shallow. Hermione had a load of questions to bring up about the fires in Hogsmeade, and had raised her hand high in the air. Harry looked around and saw Ernie Macmillan's hand waving toward the headmaster, as well.

"Mr. Macmillan," said Dumbledore nodding in Ernie's direction.

Ernie got to his feet, snapped open a copy of the Evening Prophet and began to read the headlines out. _"TWENTY SUSPICIOUS DEATHS IN THE WEST COUNTRY. THE TRAGIC TOLL THAT FIRE HAS TAKEN ON THE VILLAGE OF HOGSMEADE – SEVEN BURNED TO DEATH. THE IMPERIUS CURSE: FOUR WIZARD FAMILIES BECOME THE LATEST VICTIMS. TWO MINISTRY OFFICIALS REMOVED TO ST. MUNGO'S AFTER EXPERIENCING THE DEMENTORS KISS." _Ernie laid down the paper. "What do you think of that?" he asked.

Harry's stomach clenched. Seldom had there been so many attacks in one day. He looked over at Hermione who was shaking her head. Ron was looking worried and Ginny looked positively angry.

Dumbledore sounded very old and very sad as he replied, "This was, I am afraid, a very grim week for the wizarding world and the world in general, as many muggles died in the attacks reported here. What do _you_ make of the news?"

There was silence. Then Ernie spoke up, "Who's going to stop him? I mean the Ministry isn't succeeding are they? So who's going to stop him?"

"A very good question, but a better one is _how_ will he be stopped," said Dumbledore, "For somehow, at some time, he will be stopped."

Murmurs broke out as students all around were talking about various curses they thought might do in Lord Voldemort. Ernie, still feeling he had the floor, talked over everyone, "Won't it have to be the Avada Kedavra curse sir?"

"That is of course, one way to kill a wizard, Mr. Macmillan." Dumbledore turned away from Ernie and motioned Parvati to take the floor. Harry was a bit surprised he had brushed off Ernie's question as casually as he had done. It was unlike the headmaster. Perhaps he did not want students guessing about other powerful magic, such as the Elemental Spells. It seemed quite unlikely to Harry that any of the other Hogwarts students would know about such things.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, "Miss Patil? What would you like to discuss?"

"Thank you sir," said Parvati, standing and smoothing down her robes. "I was just wondering what everyone was hoping to do once school is done. I mean it's exciting, isn't it, finishing school? When I finish I'd love a bit of adventure."

What a great fool, thought Harry quickly and before he even raised his hand, he was on his feet. "So you think life outside this castle is all an interesting adventure, do you!" he said heatedly. Parvati looked shocked.

"Well…we could travel and meet people, when we leave here," said Parvati, looking angry. "What would you call it?" she asked.

"Death, chaos and torture? Does it really need other names?" he asked crossly.

"I wasn't talking about You Know Who," she said arrogantly. "I only meant that once we're out of school we'll be on our own and we can have little fun adventures. I wasn't talking about being captured by Death Eaters or anything," she said dismissively.

"Well, lucky you!" said Harry, and with that he grabbed up his cloak and stalked from the room.

Harry wandered down the sloping lawn to the side of the lake. He was miserable and he wanted to be away from everyone. He wanted silence. He wanted to be able to think. Harry stole a quick glance back toward the castle. There was no one in sight. He wrapped his cloak tightly around himself to block out the damp cold blasts of wind eddying across the blackened surface of the water.

Harry sighed and moved along the bank to a group of large rocks. He climbed over several and then settled upon a low one where he could lean his back against a larger one behind it. The rocks blocked the wind a bit, but they too, were icy cold.

The rest of the students in his year were wondering about travel and adventure. They were seeing the end of school as their opportunity to go out into the world and have exciting experiences. Of course, they envisioned those experiences as fun ones. Well Harry had had enough of the world, thank you very much. He hunched over and regarded his shoes.

No, Harry thought sardonically, the last thing he needed in his life was more excitement. Excitement had come to him regularly in the form of danger and death. He'd escaped Voldemort and his Death Eaters six times now. He'd fought Dementors to save his own and others lives twice. He'd killed a Basilisk and then last year, two Death Eaters. Truth be told, he'd been responsible in large part, for the death of Professor Quirrel. He'd been chased and cursed so often that he'd lost count. He'd been hit more often with Unforgivable curses than anyone he knew who was still alive to tell the tale. He'd even been inside the head of Voldemort. He'd suffered the loss of his parents and of his godfather, and it wasn't even over yet. He still had a murder to commit or die in the attempt. Excitement...adventure? You could have it, he thought bitterly.

What am I to do he thought dismally? Voldemort and his followers were now killing, torturing and taking over at will. The Ministry were fools or in some cases, in league with him. What else could explain their bumbling and their lack of a plan? The wizarding community was too afraid to really stand up to the monster, and that gave him infinitely more power than he actually possessed.

The longer it went on, the less chance that Voldemort would wish to risk his own personal safety to treat with Harry. Harry's one fear had always been a confrontation with Voldemort, but now he had a growing sense that Voldemort might simply ignore him and not agree to take him on. What did he have to gain, fighting Harry, if he had everything else he wanted?

Harry scrubbed his forehead with the heels of his hands. No, no, it was all mixed up. He didn't want to face Voldemort and probably die, yet it was clearly his fate. How else could he avenge the people who had loved him and died to protect him? If only he felt more sure about his air spell. It was strong, but it was so uncontrollable. Once he set it in motion there was no telling if it would hit its intended mark. Once he set it loose, he'd be drained and he'd not get a second chance. There was, however, nothing else in his personal arsenal likely to vanquish the Dark Lord, and he knew it.

He often lay awake nights now, playing out fierce battles where he wielded spells in such a way that Voldemort was killed, captured, mortally injured, and the like. But they were pipedreams and imaginings. Harry felt painfully that the time for him to face Voldemort was approaching. He could not tolerate for much longer the litany of deaths and destruction Voldemort was leaving in his path.

Harry wished that Dumbledore knew the answer, but he did not. Dumbledore knew a great many things and was a wizard as powerful in his own right as Voldemort; however, he apparently was not fated to be the one to unseat this evil.

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the hard rock. What DID he want after school? Parvati's question had been an innocent one. He should not have taken it so badly. The answer was simple; to live in a Voldemort free world, and have Ginny with him, and for all his friends to be safe. His thoughts streamed over the possibilities. To have Ginny with him...He'd like to just climb on his broom with her behind him and fly off to Godric's Hollow and just let the world spin round outside its gates.

That wasn't exactly all. He wanted a life and contact with people, but more than anything, he wanted to belong to someone and for that person to belong to him. Never had his lack of a proper family come home more solidly to him than when his aunt had stormed out of the cottage last summer. Harry felt a great gaping void where the tangle that was his "family" used to be. However horrible, cold and uncaring they had been, still they had been the sum total of most of his life. He hated to admit that they had been all he had, apart from his friends. Harry longed most desperately for someone to belong to fully, for his own family.

Harry dropped his head back on the rock and closed his eyes. A memory floated to the front of his thoughts, unbidden. The night Ginny had been brought to Godric's Hollow…Ginny lying in his arms, naked, but for the blanket he had wrapped around her… her white neck… the one bare leg he had finally wrapped within the blanket. In his mind, he was holding her against him again in his room in Godric's Hollow. In his daydream, she didn't remain unconscious as she had that night. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. She was all healed. She told him she loved him, and he kissed her fiercely as the blanket slipped from his grasp. Harry sighed.

He brushed the thought away, flicking his hair out of his eyes. He had no right to those dreams until he had his go at Voldemort. Once it was over, after it was done with, then life could go forward.

Harry focused on the lake surface, willing himself not to allow emotion to overcome him. What good were tears? They wouldn't wash away his fate.

Harry realized that he had to figure out how to step off the easy path and get on with the hard job that he knew he had to do. After all, how could he ever rest knowing his parents' killer was at large? How could he rest if there was a chance that he had the ability to kill an evil wizard responsible for countless deaths? There were plenty of questions and not many answers.

It was still all on him, all his choice. Dumbledore had made it clear enough that no one was going to push him into a fight with Voldemort. Here he was in the relative safety of Hogwarts castle, waiting to be ready. That's what he was really doing, wasn't it? Waiting to feel ready? Did he feel ready? The answer was no… however, when would the answer ever be yes?

A few random and scattered raindrops hit the lake, causing circular ripples to spread across its choppy, cold surface. Still the sky refused to dump rain down. It was conflicted too, it seemed.

Harry pulled his cloak tighter around him. The sky was dark and Harry stood to return to the castle.

He felt stiff from sitting on the ground amongst the rocks. Moving felt good. As he strode back across the lawn toward the castle an idea hit him hard. It landed on him as though it had fallen from the heavily clouded sky. Harry stopped still in the lawn as the idea washed over him and filled him up. It wasn't an easy plan, but it was an answer to his feeling of inaction and stagnation. Harry clenched his fists. He needed information and then he needed Ron. He moved quickly toward the castle as the light faded.


	12. Taking Control

Chapter Eleven – Taking Command

The storm had finally broken as Harry climbed the stone steps back into the castle. Large, fat raindrops began to plop on the steps as Harry shut the oak front door behind him. Hogwarts had never felt so cold and empty to him. Harry climbed the marble staircase back to Gryffindor tower, wanting to be doing something that would give him a sense of purpose in his quest. The common room held a number of students, reading and playing games quietly. They looked up at him as he passed through, though no one said anything. His outburst in the Great Hall probably held them back. He walked purposefully to the stairs leading to the dormitory.

The seventh year boy's room was empty. Ron and he were the only two occupants. As he was not there at the moment, Harry guessed Ron was off somewhere with Hermione. They were probably discussing his bad behavior during the after dinner discussion. He guessed he deserved it.

Harry hung his damp cloak on a peg near the door and dropped down on his knees in front of his old school trunk. He opened it and began to rifle through it. Lightening flashed outside the windows. The sky was darkening as rain pelted the glass and steamed down. Harry turned his attention back to the trunk. He knew he needed to clean the thing out one of these days. It contained far too many things he should have pitched out years before. Instead, old bits of useless parchment, broken quills and dried up bottles of ink were pushed aside, for now was not the time.

Right now, he was looking for something he hadn't thought about since last year. It was key to the possibility that his plan could even go forward.

At the very bottom of the trunk, under a particularly mangy old pair of socks, and an old Hogwarts permission form, he found the packet of papers bequeathed to him by Sirius. The will he had heard in Gringotts and the bundle of letters, still tied with the crinkled and faded red ribbon, were still there.

Harry dumped the lot onto his bed and flung the rest of his things back into the trunk before closing it. He dropped down on the bed and began to sort through the thick wad of documents that made up Sirius's will. As he worked, he heard a creaking noise behind him. He looked over his shoulder as Ginny came through the door, "Where did you go after dinner?" she asked, settling herself on the bed next to Harry.

"I just had to think," said Harry. "I probably owe Parvati an apology. I shouldn't have attacked her like that."

"Parvati was being a bit…clueless. I could see why you'd get upset," she replied.

Harry looked up at her, "You know, four more students left today, not counting Neville." He had watched in the afternoon as a Gryffindor second year, a Hufflepuff, and two Ravenclaws boarded a thestral carriage with their trunks which then headed off toward the gates. Professor McGonagall, who was seeing them off, had an anxious look on her face as she had watched the carriage depart. When she turned back toward the castle, Harry could have sworn it was with a tear in her eye.

"Well, I think it's understandable that more students are leaving," she said. "That last attack on Hogsmeade was pretty close to the school." Ginny smiled sadly at him, "Harry, I understand why you blew up. People who aren't in the middle of all of it, as you are, don't really understand."

"You were there too, Ginny," he said. "That was my fault. I should never…"

"Just stop!" said Ginny firmly. "It all came out right in the end. Malfoy is dead, my curse is gone, and we were able to warn the Order about Hogsmeade and Bagman. If we hadn't left the school grounds, things would have been worse in Hogsmeade."

Harry looked back down at the papers in his hands, "We'll be the only ones here soon."

Ginny said quietly, "I know."

"What's all this?" she asked, changing the subject. She had begun to look over the pile of papers on the bed.

"Oh," said Harry, not meeting her gaze. "It's just some stuff from Sirius. I thought I'd look through it."

Ginny gave a small non-committal sound but did not comment further. Harry knew he was inclined to become rather funny when the subject of Sirius came up, and at such times, his friends handled him like a bomb about to go off. Therefore, Harry was sure Ginny was avoiding any other comment.

"These look like letters," said Ginny, picking up the ribbon tied bundle.

Grateful to escape talking about the will itself, Harry said, "Ya, I never read them all. They're all letters written to Sirius. I guess I should read them, though." Harry had not read them because the first one he had pulled out the day the will was read to him was from his mother, and described in detail what had happened that last day of her life. Harry tried not to think about what he had read there. Hopefully, none of the rest of the old letters would prove so devastating to read because Ginny was now gingerly untying the bundle.

"Shall we read a few?" asked Ginny tentatively. Harry shrugged, wanting both to hear their contents and wanting them to remain folded, and therefore silent. He didn't know how to explain this to Ginny, so he kept quiet.

The letter on top was the one from his mother to Sirius on the day she was killed. "My mum wrote that one the day she died," said Harry, taking it off the top of the stack Ginny was holding and setting it aside.

Ginny did not question him, but picked up the next one. "This is from Sirius's mother." She paused, Harry thought, to give him time to dissent before she began to read aloud.

_Sirius, _

_I am completely beside myself. I have just been informed that you and your nasty little group of Gryffindor friends have had a go at Philleus Zambini and Terrell Bulstrode. It is bad enough that you are not part of Slytherin house, as every decent Black has been since the school was founded, but dueling with boys whose families we associate with and putting them in the hospital to boot is simply the final straw. _

_You are a grand disappointment as a son, Sirius. You may have been born a Black, but as you have chosen to side with Albus Dumbledore, you have forsaken your noble heritage. Our last conversation makes that fact crystal clear._

_From this day forward, I will no longer consider you as my kin. You will not step so much as a toe inside this house again whilst I am alive and matriarch of this family. Kreacher will pack up all your belongings and they will be delivered to Hogwarts. Never darken my doorstep again._

_Mother Black_

Harry scowled as Ginny re-folded it and set it down, picking up the next. "It fits her picture at Grimmauld Place, don't you think?" asked Ginny who seemed to be trying to lift Harry's mood. "I can see why Sirius hated her."

He smiled weakly at her and continued to skim through the thick sheaf of parchment in his hands. It was all a lot of legal terms that he didn't really understand. He knew he would recognize the part he was interested in once he saw it.

Ginny shifted on the bed and began to read the next letter.

_Dearest Sirius,_

_I can see that it's over between us. I saw you in the corridor today with Amada Reichorn and you held her hand and kissed her. It was only last week that it was me in that position._

_I know I should be crying, but I have realized that you are not ready to love someone. I think you love being popular and being rowdy with James and Remus. You love the attention you get for being good looking but I don't think you like yourself very much._

_I think deep down you are sad. You never let me in, never let me understand you, I don't know why that is. I only hope you find out who you are and why you run away from every girl who gets close to you. Oh yes, there are quite a lot of us you've left in your wake. Perhaps we'll form a club._

_I do really wish you the best, but more than that, I wish you to open that locked door to your heart and to find happiness._

_Sincerely,_

_Deidre Vance_

Ginny frowned as she finished this one. "Funny he hung on to this letter, isn't it. Someone like Sirius must have had a lot of girls trailing after him. I'll bet he broke up with a fair few too," said Ginny. "It's very sad, her letter, don't you think?"

Harry laid down his papers. "Perhaps this one meant something to him. He left me a message after he died telling me to settle down with someone and have a family. I guess he wished he had been able to do that," speculated Harry.

She was looking at him in a strange way that seemed to have nothing to do with the letters. She sighed and then opened the next piece of stained parchment. This one was from Dumbledore. In it, he told Sirius he would help find lodgings for him for the summer. It seemed to be in response to Sirius's mother disowning him. It suggested that Sirius could store his extra things at Hogwarts as long as he liked.

There was a letter from Sirius's Uncle Alpard, which commiserated with him over the state of the Black family and apparently had enclosed a bank note for some eight hundred galleons to help Sirius out until he could finish school and find work. Uncle Alpard had told him to keep his spirits up.

Ginny had reached the last letter. As she opened it, Harry saw it was signed James Potter, and he paid closer attention as Ginny read.

_Sirius,_

_Well mate, I've gone and done it. I asked Lily to marry me, and to my surprise, she agreed. Can you believe it? I couldn't wait for your return from France to tell you the news so I'm sending this to you by owl. _

_We're to be married on September first, as it's the anniversary of our very first meeting; Hogwarts train platform. Remember that day? It's a miracle she'll have me after the trick we played on her and the others in her compartment. We were really horrible when we were young, weren't we? _

_So, my friend, I simply can't get married unless you consent to be my best man. I hope you'll agree. Lily sends her love, and asks that you keep your heartbreaking ways to a minimum while you are outside of the country as it might give Britain a bad name._

_Soon,_

_James_

_PS – I know its very short notice and we've only just graduated, but we can't wait…so there it is._

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Looks like they married quite young, doesn't it? I never thought about that before."

Ginny inclined her head. "Perhaps it's young for muggles. My parents were married directly out of school too. Mum always said she and dad were made for each other." Ginny stacked the letters up and carefully re-tied the old ribbon. As she concentrated on making the bow, Harry watched her. He really loved looking at her when she wasn't watching him.

Too soon, Ginny jumped off the bed saying she needed to go to the library and would see him later in the common room. Harry bade her goodbye and went back to his reading of the will.

It took Harry a good hour to find the thing he was looking for. He had to read it over about six times to make sure he understood it. That part of his plan could work, he realized. Harry gathered up all the papers and folded them carefully back together before dropping the documents into his trunk. The plan was starting to coalesce in his head. It seemed rash, yet it was the only way.

With the information from the will in hand, Harry sought out Ron. He didn't have to look far. Ron and Hermione were sitting together at a table in the common room, doing homework, when he found them.

Harry pulled out a chair and sat down. Normally he would have confided in both of them but he knew that in this one case, only Ron could know what he had in mind. Harry sat nervously tapping his foot, knowing he would have to wait to talk to talk to Ron alone.

Hermione looked up at him. "Are you alright Harry?" she asked. "You really upset Parvati."

"Yes, I got a bit out of line," he replied.

"I never got to bring up the news about the were-wolf cure," said Hermione.

"What news?" asked Harry.

"Well, it seems that St. Mungo's has questioned the use of the cure. Some healer named Augustus Pye says it may be worthless. He is asking for volunteer subjects to test it on. He'll take any one who has been bitten." She pulled a folded section of The Daily Prophet from her bag and passed it across to Harry.

"St. Mungo's isn't a very safe place, and that Pye is in with the Death Eaters," said Harry shortly. Harry recollected his and Neville imprisonment in St. Mungos the previous year.

"Maybe he wants to get werewolves to come forward so they can be recruited by Voldemort," said Ron.

"I don't know what they're thinking," said Harry. "I just wish the Order was strong enough to go in and raid St. Mungos. But, I suppose with Bagman a Death Eater, they can't do it through the Ministry."

"Bagman might just be under the Imperius curse," said Hermione.

"I don't think so," said Harry. "If he had been, I don't think he would have told Snape he shouldn't be seen with the rest of them. I think he would have just gone along, don't you? I mean, that curse just makes you sort of contented so you're happy to do what you're asked."

"I agree with Harry," Ron said. "Bagman is putting on too good an act. Dad thought he'd behaved really strangely at the World Cup and hasn't had much good to say about him since."

"Harry, did Dumbledore ever tell you what was done with Malfoy's body? I saw Draco again today and I don't think he knows his father is dead," whispered Hermione.

"No, I didn't ask him and he didn't say anything. I'll bet the Order wants it all kept quiet," said Harry. "Snape must not have told anyone either or I'm sure Draco would have heard."

Ron said, "Snape is the real problem, isn't he. Malfoy is dead, so who cares about him."

"Well, if Voldemort knew the two of them were plotting together, Snape's life wouldn't be worth a sickle," said Harry.

Hermione finally closed her book and bade them goodnight. Harry watched her walk away feeling guilty for what he was about to do. When he and Ron were alone, and Harry was sure no one would hear, he confided his plan. Ron thought at first that Harry was having him on. "You're not serious? Are you?" he asked when Harry had finished.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Ron was at a loss for what to say, he started to voice his objection several times, but stopped each time. "I…Well…But what about…"

Harry cut across him, "Look, I know what I'm asking. Just think about it and we'll talk about it later. Just don't tell anyone."

Ron agreed that it should stay between the two of them, pointing out that everyone would be completely upset if they knew.

The chill, rainy weather of late November was replaced suddenly by an unusually bitter cold snap. Every surface outdoors was coated in a film of ice. The lake began to form small icy bits that floated on the surface making it appear as though it was a dish of lumpy gravy.

As the lake froze solid over the next few days, Harry thought about how the students would have gone skating in happier times. Now, with the frequent attacks, no one was allowed out on the lake, or even on the lawn, unless going to classes.

Harry, who had been finding lessons increasingly difficult to bear, felt restless and annoyed at the lack of useful information he was receiving. It wasn't that the lessons weren't good; they just were not preparing him for his fight.

At his next Elemental magic lesson, Mac looked questioningly at him when he stalked in and slammed down his books. "What's wrong, young Harry?" he asked.

"None of this is working," said Harry, in an annoyed voice. "Voldemort is out there and Snape is out there, and I'm stuck here learning how to change pumpkins into porcupines, or learning how to dry wet clothes with a charm."

"I don't know what answer you expect, boy, but you are not _stuck_ anywhere. That kind of thinking is a dead end. Everyone has a choice. You have a choice."

Harry got set in the center of the room and conjured the air spell; watching it churn and watching the lightening strengthen. His frustration was feeding it; making it stronger. Then he directed it at a point on the wall visualizing Snape standing there. The electricity slammed into the spot. The blast seemed to rock the room, or at least the power of it made Harry stagger.

"Well done, boy!" said Mac, appreciatively. "I believe that's the best you have done so far. You were quick and accurate…deadly," he said with pride.

Harry looked at the spot in the wall where a hole had been blasted. Mac was right, of course; right about all of it. He knew what he needed to do and it was only his own fear, or apathy that was holding him back. Somehow, at that moment, he knew he must follow the plan he had in his head.

Harry and Ron had several long discussions over then next few days. Ron spent the first several talks trying to dissuade Harry from it, then the next several helping him to perfect it. It was a mark of their friendship that Ron was going to go along with it even though he had grave doubts.

"Harry, do you suppose you should tell someone else about what we're going to do?" asked Ron, as they talked late into the night in their dormitory room.

"Look," said Harry, "Dumbledore said I shouldn't second guess my decisions. If I tell anyone, there's a chance of a leak," said Harry. "I just don't want anything to go wrong."

"There are about a hundred things that can go wrong. I'm not sure that telling Dumbledore would be a bad idea. He won't tell anyone," said Ron.

Harry was undecided about revealing his plan to Dumbledore. The headmaster seemed to be weaker and more sickly each time Harry saw him. His failing strength was disconcerting. Dumbledore had always been the person in control. The night of the Hogsmeade fire seemed to have sapped his remaining vigor. At least, since that night, Dumbledore had missed all of Harry's private lessons, leaving them to Mac. He was seldom seen at dinner in the Great Hall, and when he did appear, he was often leaning on a cane and wheezed slightly when he spoke.

In order for the plan to work, Harry needed some gold. Luckily, his gold was now close by. Under the invisibility cloak, he was able to sneak down to the cells where Snape had been kept until his break out. Although he was nearly caught by Bill due to a creaking door, when he opened the cell holding the gold, he managed to fill a pouch with what he thought would be enough.

"It's your gold, Harry," said Ron as they played a game of wizard chess late that night in the otherwise deserted common room. "You could have just asked Bill, and he could have gotten it for you."

"If I ask for gold, someone might want to know what it's for," explained Harry, nudging his bishop forward.

"Mate, I'm beginning to think you've gone a bit …well…paranoid," Ron replied. "I guess that makes me barmy too, following you."

Harry grinned for the first time in weeks. Ron's friendship meant everything to him, and Ron's agreement to go along with his plan made it all seem much more possible. The chess game finished with Ron's queen checking Harry's king while several pawns cheered from the side of the board.

"Do you think we'll pull it off?" asked Ron as they climbed the stairs to their dormitory. "Not just the first part, but all of it."

"I reckon we have to," said Harry patting Ron on the shoulder.

Even though the decision had been made, Harry couldn't sleep that night. Images of recent attacks kept replaying in his head until he thought it might drive him crazy. After tossing in his bed for what seemed like several hours, and punching his pillow into all sorts of shapes, none of which seemed to make him any more comfortable, Harry climbed from his bed and dug out his Transfiguration textbook. Perhaps, he thought, he could catch up on his homework reading assignment and knock the visions of violent death out of his head in one stroke.

The common room was very dark. The candles had been put out and the house elves must have cleared up since there were no wads of parchment or candy wrappers littering the room. The fire was burning very low. Harry could see the head of one person sitting in front of the fire. As he drew near, he realized it was Ginny.

"Hi," said Harry softly, so as not to scare her. Ginny turned to look at him.

"Harry," she said. "Why are you up?"

Harry could tell she had been crying. "Never mind about me, what's the matter?" he asked, coming around and sitting next to her on the sofa.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, wiping her eyes on her nightdress.

"Come on, tell me," coaxed Harry. Ginny was not a girl to cry easily, not like Hermione for example. When Ginny did it, he thought it better to take notice, than to ignore it.

Instead of answering him, she put her arms around his neck kissed him. Harry could tell a diversion when he saw one, even a pleasant diversion such as this. He put an arm around her. "Tell me," he said.

"I said it's not important," she said sinking back into the couch and hugging her knees to her chest.

"C'mon Ginny," Harry coaxed.

She gave him a look that was unfathomable. "Alright then," she turned away from him staring into the fire. "I know you Harry. I can feel what you're thinking. I'm betting you're planning on facing Voldemort soon, aren't you?"

Harry had not exactly spoken this thought aloud yet, but indeed, it had been burning within him for months now.

"The thing is Harry, I know you have to do what you think is right or best, when you're ready. Somehow, you've managed to escape Voldemort over and over through skill or luck or circumstances and I don't think anyone should interfere with your intuition or your decision. I know that I can't try to stop you, but I'm so worried for you."

"I don't know what to say. I'm…I'm…" Harry said haltingly. "I have to do this first, before my life can go on. The prophecy is right. I can't really live while Voldemort is alive." The silence was very deep. "I love you Ginny. I hope you know that."

"I love you too, Harry," she whispered raggedly and she turned and buried herself in his arms. "I love you too."

Harry held her and stared into the fire thinking to himself how he'd probably not survive to enjoy a quiet life with Ginny; how he had already lived longer than could have been expected.

It was a week until the end of term. The room was black as Harry lit his wand. "Ron," whispered Harry. He kept forgetting that Neville was no longer here. "Ron," he said aloud.

Ron sat up in bed, looking groggily around. "Oh, yeah," he said, seemingly remembering what they were about to do. He climbed quickly from his bed and began to dress.

The night was dark and there was no moonlight. So much the better thought Harry as he studied the blackness beyond the dormitory window. It was the middle of the night. He turned back and looked at the room that had been his home, his favorite place, for the past six and a half years. What was to happen as a result of this, he didn't know. It actually hurt to be leaving like this in the dead of night. He hoped again, for the hundredth time, that he was doing the right thing.

In about ten minutes they were packed and ready to go. They had decided to take everything they would need in their school bags and leave their trunks behind. They moved around the familiar room in silence, collecting a few remaining things and stowing them in their packs. Soon, Ron nodded to Harry. They covered themselves with the invisibility cloak, then made their way through the castle, out the front doors, and into the night.

The instant uproar the next day was to be expected. Ginny and Hermione who were both agitated, appeared in Dumbledore's office. Hermione extended the now well-read note with a shaking hand. Dumbledore scanned it and then turned to look out his window pensively. A moment later Conner MacNessa appeared in the doorway. "Albus," he said genially, "We had a date for some breakfast this morning, I believe."

Spotting the stricken girls, he began to excuse himself. "No, Conner, this concerns you too," said Dumbledore, his voice weak and wheezy. He handed the note to MacNessa across the desk.

MacNessa tipped his head so as to focus through his half spectacles. He read the note aloud.

_Dear Ginny, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore and Mac,_

_I want to thank everyone for helping me prepare to fight Voldemort. I know you have all been doing your best. I feel that what I need now is to be away from school and to really practice the things I have learned so far, without distractions. I don't think you can teach me anything more. I think I just have to get better at what you have already shown me. _

_Ron has agreed to come with me and help. We will be safe I think. No one is likely to guess where we've gone. Don't try to find us or send us any messages because that would only tip off the Death Eaters that something is wrong. As it's the holidays, I don't think anyone will notice too much if you all act normally. I don't know when we will return, but you can make up a story that we got ill or something if we are not back before term begins. _

_Tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley if you think it's best._

_We are sorry, but this way is safest for everyone concerned._

_Yours truly,_

_Harry_

Mac re-folded the parchment taking a shallow breath. "Not…unexpected. Is it?' said Mac flatly to the room in general, his eyes unfocused.

"No," said Dumbledore. "Indeed, I rather hoped he would come to this point, although not so soon. I confess I have also dreaded it."

"What are you talking about!" screamed Hermione, looking wildly from one to the other. "You think it's a good thing that they've run off like this! They might be killed! They might be captured!"

Ginny stood quietly next to Hermione and put a hand on her quaking shoulder. "I'm very worried too, Hermione, but I see Harry's point. He needs to focus now, not to be distracted by classes, and Quidditch, and ordinary day–to-day activities. I think he must have come near to telling me this the other night." She too became lost in thought for a moment.

"Aren't any of you going to do something!" Hermione stormed. "Ron has a bad leg. He needs …," but she didn't seem able to finish the thought.

Dumbledore turned to face her. "No, we are not going to do anything, Hermione," he said firmly. "And, neither are you. We are going to give Harry his chance. We are going to allow him his choice."

Far away, Harry and Ron were looking at their new surroundings. Hedwig hooted softly as she floated in through a hole in the rafters and settled herself on the back of an old chair. Although she couldn't communicate it, she had checked and there was no one moving for miles around.

"Harry, what do you reckon they're all doing?" asked Ron.

"Probably trying to decide if they should search or not," said Harry. He jabbed his wand at the cold fireplace and flames sprang to life, crackling as dust and cobwebs were burned up. The place was dank and musty. It had not seen inhabitants for a very long time, but some of its wizard protections remained in place. Without the directions it would have been impossible to locate. Harry suspected it had an unplottable charm upon it.

Ron pulled some food from the packs they carried and cleared off the top of an old table. Then he gathered up two overturned chairs and set them upright. "Dinner, mate," he said.

Harry took a seat across from him.

"Are you sure we can't have a house elf?" Ron asked, looking around the room as he ate his cold sandwich.

Harry grinned at him. "Thanks for doing this." He didn't need to say more. Ron simply nodded. They both faced the fire and ate their meager meal, but Harry felt satisfied. He was finally on the path to the finish.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley received a letter, written by Ginny, telling them that Ron would not be coming home over break. Dumbledore told Ginny he would visit them and explain. It would be important, he felt, that the fewest possible people were aware that Harry and Ron were missing. Dumbledore expressed the opinion that they should all keep Ron and Harry's absence quiet as long as possible. There were quite a few things that could go wrong. If, for example, they did not return by end of break, it would be difficult to keep the truth hidden.

Hermione and Ginny had agreed to keep quiet. It had been quite difficult for Hermione to hoist a normal look upon her face, and go about as though everything were completely fine. For one thing, she was horribly stung by the fact that Harry and Ron had not confided in her. For another, she was hurt that her boyfriend would leave her like this, without even a note of farewell. She wanted desperately to send an owl to them. Dumbledore told her that any such attempt to communicate with them would put them in danger.

She ranted along this line for three days to Ginny. On the third day, as they did their homework in the common room Ginny finally shushed her.

"How can you tell me to be quiet?" said Hermione, angrily. "Don't you care about them?"

Ginny gazed at Hermione appraisingly and swallowed the retort that was on her lips, "Harry… has to do this his way. And of course I care, but this is bigger than my personal feelings."

"Ron…Ron would do anything for Harry…and now they're out there….and I can't even help them," Hermione said despairingly.

Ginny stared off across the common room and sighed, "Hermione, I think I know where they are. I'll show you once everyone has turned in."

Hermione looked at her in a startled way. "You know? For heaven's sake, why didn't you say? Why not tell Dumbledore?"

Hermione looked positively livid but Ginny bowed her head over her Transfiguration book and murmured, "Once the common room clears."


	13. Preparations

**Chapter Twelve – Preparations**

_Authors Note: For the most part, I have maintained the "Harry point of view" through-out both Dangerous Choice and Elements of Valor. In the next few chapters, you will notice that the point of view will shift between Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. This is necessary in order to tell the entire story. It is my hope that it will make the ending better. Thanks for your patience and support._

Hermione looked around the common room, drumming her fingernails on the table as her eyes following the last person who was taking the stairs to the dormitories. When the door closed and the common room was empty, she turned back and faced Ginny who had not looked up.

"We're alone now," said Hermione impatiently.

Ginny sighed as she set down her quill and looked up at Hermione. "Look, I'll tell you what I know, or think I know, but you have to promise to let them alone." There was finality in her voice, as she looked Hermione squarely in the eyes.

"What choice do I have but to agree," said Hermione grudgingly.

"None," said Ginny. She looked adamant as Hermione glowered at her. A few seconds passed, and then she leaned toward Hermione and whispered, "Remember how Harry reacted to Parvati that night at dinner…when he stormed out of the castle?"

"Yes…," Hermione said slowly.

"I watched him from a window. He sat by the lake for a very long time. Later, when he returned to Gryffindor tower I went to find him. He had been really restless for days. I was getting worried about him. He seemed so…sort of…lost." Her voice cracked slightly and she covered it by clearing her throat. "I found him in his dormitory room, going through some old papers."

"Go on," said Hermione with interest.

"There was a thick packet of documents on Harry's bed that were very official looking, and he was reading them. He didn't tell me what they were. I sat there with him for a while, on the pretense of reading some old letters from Sirius. I chanced a glance at Harry several times while I was reading and he was skimming through the documents. I thought they might be important from the look on his face."

Ginny paused as Colin Creevey crossed from the portrait hole to the dormitory stairs. Once the door creaked shut, she resumed. "After Harry and Ron left, after we had shown the note to Dumbledore, I went back to their room and looked through Harry's trunk. I found that packet of papers."

Hermione stared at her. "But…what does that have to do with…"

"It was Sirius's will," said Ginny.

"Harry told us all about that last year. How is any of that important?" asked Hermione.

"Did you know Sirius left Harry property?" asked Ginny.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place…I know," Hermione replied.

"That wasn't all. There was an old house of some sort in Scotland…another Black mansion." Ginny paused and waited, watching Hermione, "I think that's where they've gone… to work on Harry's spell." Ginny straightened while Hermione considered this.

"That would make sense, I guess. No one would think about some old moldy house in Scotland. I just don't understand why they wouldn't just stay here?" Hermione asked, her composure shattering. "Dumbledore is here and MacNesssa! They could have helped! They could at least tell Harry if he's doing it correctly or not."

"Harry and Ron need to practice that air spell thing together…alone," said Ginny patiently. She was terrified by what this turn of events portended but she was forcing herself to remain calm. No good would come from falling apart. Harry was close to attempting something supremely heroic and dangerous. She had vowed to be no less brave than he.

She swallowed her fear and went on in a composed tone of voice. "Remember back at Godric's Hollow, Ron was the best at channeling power to Harry when he did his Elemental Magic. Neither of us was nearly as good at it, Hermione. Harry is feeling as though he has to fight Voldemort soon, before things get worse. The air spell is his best hope, but he wants the extra power he gets from Ron to do it. They can't practice here. Not really." Ginny began putting her books away. "It's too dangerous. For one thing, they might be seen. They need time to work on it…to concentrate…at least, that's what I think."

Hermione regarded her. "But…they could have told me…us…," she began. "They needn't run off in the middle of the night with no word to anyone." Hermione's voice was quavering.

Ginny rested a hand on Hermione's arm. "I'm scared for them too," she admitted softly. "We have to let them do this their own way. It's not a game. It's real, and someone is going to die."

At these words, Hermione broke into silent sobs, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Ron," she mumbled, before she choked back more tears.

Ginny got up from her chair and came round the table, enfolding Hermione in her arms. "No matter what else happens, Hermione, you and I have to stand by them."

Hermione had been hoping to take Ron home with her at Christmas, but finally conceded that her friends were not going to be back as soon as that, and wrote her parents the following morning, saying she was going to spend Christmas at school. Ginny had done the same. Dumbledore had already gotten Ginny to write them that Ron and Harry would be staying at school. He explained that he did not wish to deceive the Weasley's but still felt it best to keep the list of persons who knew that Harry and Ron had disappeared, to a bare minimum. He had assured Ginny that he would be the one to explain if her parents found out, or needed to be told. Ginny was able to lie convincingly at need, but on this occasion she felt mightily guilty for having done so.

The Christmas holiday came five days after Harry and Ron had left the castle. In order to keep the entire school, small though it now was, from going into an uproar, Dumbledore put out the story that both Ron and Harry had come down with Salamander pox as the result of contact with an infected salamander down at Hagrid's cabin. No one asked any questions. Magical maladies and backfired jinxes were all too common an occurrence at the wizarding school. Everyone assumed the pair were under the care of Madam Pomfrey. Most of the students were eager to leave the depressing confines of the castle and hurried off happily to their homes and their families.

The castle emptied quickly on Saturday morning. It turned out that Ginny and Hermione were the only students who were not headed home. Mrs. Weasley had sent a note to Ginny, asking her to re-consider and to bring Ron and Harry along to the Burrow. She felt that the wizarding world was much too dangerous to avoid chances for the family to be together. Her letter made Ginny feel even worse.

In Scotland, in a rundown and chilly stone manor house, Harry and Ron sank, sweating and exhausted, into two shabby old wing-backed chairs in front of the fire. They had wasted little effort making the place habitable, but had cleared one room so they had a dry, reasonably clean place to eat and sleep. In the cavernous main hall, they had removed sufficient furniture and debris so they could use it to practice.

On the small table between their chairs lay a scrap of parchment that had arrived the day after they had left the castle.

_To: H _

_I trust this owl will find you. I do not expect a response. I will take the owl's return to me as proof that it has found you. I will handle any questions this end. Do what you must._

_D_

Harry and Ron had both read the note without comment when it had arrived the day after their flight from Hogwarts. The handsome owl had been sent back without a reply.

"I think… tomorrow… is Christmas," said Ron who was still slightly breathless from their last attempt.

"Is it?" asked Harry. "I didn't do any shopping this year."

Ron sniggered, "Me either." He sighed, rubbing his knees. "Bet Hermione is raving mad."

"About Christmas? You can make it up to her," said Harry quietly, staring into the fire.

"She'll be mad at both of us," said Ron. "Ginny is probably going spare too, I expect."

"I suppose… we could write them…just this once," said Harry. He had been trying very hard to block Ginny from his thoughts. She was a definite distraction. If he thought about her too long, he was afraid he'd lose his resolve and go straight back to Hogwarts.

"Do you think?" said Ron, rather hopefully. "I felt sort of bad about the way we left."

Silence fell between them as they sank into their own thoughts.

"No," said Ron slowly, after a few minutes. "You were right in the first place. No contact is best. It would just complicate matters…Do you think?"

Harry nodded, without looking at Ron. It was lonely here, and desolate. It made sending a letter seem exciting. They had to put that sort of thing behind them for now. Ron was right.

"You and Hermione…that night I woke up in the dormitory…" began Harry, thoughtfully.

Ron flushed noticeably. "Yeah…that was some night," he said. "You know, she says I'm a much better kisser than Krum." Ron smiled to himself.

Harry smiled as well. Hermione certainly understood Ron. "She's the one, then?" he asked quietly, shifting in his chair so his head rested in the corner between the back and the wing. He was too tired to move.

"Ya," said Ron. "I reckon she is." There was another long pause. "And what about you and Ginny?"

Harry nodded his head, "Ya." He wanted to say more, say how he felt when he saw her run across the lawn, or how she looked when she shook back her hair, or the color in her cheeks after she'd been out flying, but he couldn't put it into words. At least none he wished to share.

They rested quietly until the warm fire put them both to sleep where they sat.

In her dormitory room, Ginny was too restless to sleep. She had discarded all her textbooks in turn, and was now sitting on her bed, looking dolefully around the room. Her eyes came to rest on the packet of parchment documents she had lifted from Harry's trunk days ago. Now would be a good time to return them to where she had found them, with Gryffindor tower nearly deserted.

A few minutes later she was pushing open the door to the seventh year boy's dormitory. She'd have to stop sneaking into Harry's room she thought to herself. The old floorboards squeaked as she padded over to where Harry's trunk stood. Ginny dropped to her knees and opened it. She pushed the bundle of papers back down to the bottom where she had discovered it. She was about to shut it again when she paused, her hand suspended over the contents of the trunk for a moment. She was overcome with a completely silly whim. She tried for a moment to shake it off, then again, what could it hurt? It would make him seem closer somehow.

Ten minutes later, Ginny was back in her own room ready to turn in. She looked at herself in the long mirror. There were no other girls in her year left in the tower so she had the room to herself. Harry's tee shirt was long enough on her to hang down several inches above her knees. She smoothed it down against her skin and climbed into bed. As she curled up under her blankets, she pulled the neck of it up to her face and breathing in his scent, then settled down against her pillows. He wouldn't mind her having it she thought, as she drifted off to sleep.

The end of the Christmas holiday left Ginny feeling very cold. Harry and Ron had not turned up. Mum and dad had written that Ron had not sent so much as a thank you owl for their Christmas presents, nor had Harry. Mum was talking about coming to Hogwarts to see her youngest son and make sure he was all right.

The time had come for Dumbledore to tell the Weasley's the truth. Ginny went to Dumbledore's office to ask him to speak to her parents. Once she was admitted to the headmaster's office, she accepted the seat he pointed to.

"Well, Ms. Weasley, what brings you here?" asked Dumbledore. He looked very thin and frail.

"Sir, it's about Harry and Ron," she began. She explained the letter from her mother and waited for Dumbledore's reply.

"Thank you, for informing me," said the headmaster. His eyes were rather misty as though his sight was failing. She waited for more.

"I shall visit the Burrow tonight and explain our deception to your parents," he said managing a smile at her. "I will take all of the blame, of course," he added in a hoarse voice.

Ginny looked at him appraisingly. "Sir," she began. "I could do it. You don't need to trouble…"

"No, thank you Ginny," said the old wizard. "I appreciate your offer; however, it is my place to do it."

Ginny stood and left the beautiful office behind, descending into the cold stone hallway of the second floor. Her footsteps echoed as she headed down to dinner.

The Great Hall looked empty as Ginny entered and strode over to where Hermione was sitting. The students now returning from break were even fewer than before. Ginny estimated, without counting, that only about half had returned to school.

Hermione was scanning the Evening Prophet. The front page sported a headline that reported a major attack on a Ministry of Magic holiday party. Dementors had been sent there and the attack resulted in another ten deaths. It explained why more students had sent their regrets, dropping out of the school term.

Winter had turned exceptionally cold. The wind whipped savagely around the castle and grounds with such force that all classes were now conducted within the castle, including Herbology. Professor Sprout had set up a makeshift greenhouse area in one of the southern facing classrooms on the first floor. This restriction to the castle made Hogwarts feel even more like a tiny closed island, cut off from the world.

Owls were having difficulty making deliveries. The Daily Prophet did not arrive everyday, to Hermione's great displeasure. The lake was frozen hard and the snow on the grounds had a hard, crunchy crust. The new, dry snow seemed to dance over the icy surfaces without finding a place to rest. The sky was constantly grey, allowing little light inside. Candles glowed in most of the classrooms, even in the mornings. Ginny began to wonder if the depressing weather was Voldemort's doing.

"Once more, then," said Harry as he got to his hands and knees and pulled himself painfully from the floor. Ron grunted, but did not move. He continued to lay flat on the floor, panting and staring at the ceiling.

Harry waited.

"Ok," Ron said, gritting his teeth and rising for another attempt. "What happened that time?" he asked.

"We pushed it a bit too far, I think," said Harry. "That was quite a surge of magical power. Could you do that again, do you think? Maybe I could figure out how to control it."

"No Harry I'm just a tool… like a wand or something. The magic is coming from you. I can't tell what's happening, except that it drains me."

"Never mind," said Harry forcing his voice to sound more confident than he felt. "We'll figure it out and we'll get him."

"I wouldn't have a chance against him and we both know that," said Ron, rubbing his backsides.

As they prepared to have another go, Harry felt a great emptiness. Even with Ron here, he was still the one...alone…who had to make this work.

The Weasley's appeared at school the day after Ginny had spoken to Professor Dumbledore. True to his word, he had met with them to give them the news about their youngest son and Harry. They were waiting in the Gryffindor common room when Ginny and Hermione returned from dinner. Mrs. Weasley's eyes were red and she was sniffling into a handkerchief. When she saw her daughter, she flung herself on her and began to weep. Ginny patted her while looking over her shoulder at her father.

"Now, now, Molly," he said, pulling her off Ginny gently.

"I'm sorry," began Ginny. "I wanted to tell you…"

Mr. Weasley shot her a warning look. "It's alright, Ginny. I understand," he said lowering his voice. "I just hadn't expected them to…" he started. "I didn't anticipate…" his voice cracked and he faltered. He motioned them out into the hall. Ginny, Hermione and the elder Weasley's traipsed out into the empty corridor.

"How are you two holding up?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"I'm so worried!" said Hermione at once. "Isn't their something we should be doing?"

Ginny watched her father, but didn't speak. Mr. Weasley sighed. "I'm afraid, Hermione that the die is cast. I don't think we can interfere. We don't know what they are planning, or when. I just hope they allow us to help them before they do something…"

Ginny was sure her father was about to say _rash_. He stopped himself and put an arm around his wife. "I think you are safe here, but you can come home at anytime you want." He leaned forward and planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead, then steered Mrs. Weasley toward the stairs.

Professor McGonagall rose during dinner at the end of January. She cleared her throat and called for silence. It was hardly necessary, as the room was nearly empty. "Students, I have a few announcements to make," she said in a very serious tone. "It is I am sure, obvious that the school is now nearly deserted. There are only twenty-eight of you left. It is the wish of the staff to teach any students who desire a magical education, no matter how many or few. Due to the small numbers, we will again be re-organizing classes. The older students will receive one-on-one instruction and we will give OWL's and NEWT's as soon as students are ready for the tests. We will not wait until the end of the year. Students will be notified of their status and progress. Students may move ahead of their present grade level, if they successfully complete their current work." She turned to her fellow teachers, "It is our wish to give you all the highest quality experience even in these troubled times, and not to stand by a rigid system, when it doesn't serve you."

"On another note," she continued, more softly. "Professor Dumbledore has not been well lately. You may notice that he has not been joining us for meals. He needs his rest. Therefore I ask that you bring any questions or problems to me or to the other members of staff for the time being."

The weather had continued bleak and so cold it chilled the very soul. February showed no signs of releasing winter's frozen hold on the countryside. In the bone-chilling night, a faint light shown from a grimy window in an uninviting stone structure upon a Scottish moor.

"Harry? Are you sure we're ready?" asked Ron as they sat across from each other in the glow of a single candle. A parchment envelope lay between them as well as a bottle of fire whiskey and two glasses. They both looked at the envelope.

"I think," said Harry, "that we can really do this. I feel like it's time."

"Then let's make a pact, shall we," said Ron.

"What kind of pact?" asked Harry.

"We won't break our connection during the fight, no matter what happens. If he kills us then so be it," said Ron forcefully. "I want him dead and gone, and I don't mind dying if that's what it takes. If one of us lives, then that one will do whatever he can to kill Voldemort."

"Agreed," said Harry, and they clasped arms across the table. Harry raised his glass of fire whiskey with his free hand, and Ron did the same. They clinked them and then downed a gulp each. Ron's eyes began to water immediately. He choked back a laugh. "Out to kill the dark lord but can't handle my fire whiskey. I wonder if that's a good omen?"

Harry smiled fiercely as they broke apart, his eyes burning as he stared back down at the letter. "You know… odds are we'll die," said Harry.

"Don't tell me the odds," said Ron seriously.

Harry lifted the letter that they had spent several hours drafting. "Are you sure?" asked Ron.

"I am," said Harry, surprised at how sure he sounded. "It's got to stop, now."

"Ok, send it then," said Ron, taking another gulp of fire whiskey.

Harry called Hedwig down and he tied the letter to her outstretched leg. He smoothed her feathers, hoping this would not be her last flight. "Be very careful, ok?" he said, stroking her head. She clicked her beak, as if to reassure him, then took to the air. It was done. They finished off the bottle as they talked into the night.

On an evening two nights later, Harry looked across at Ron who was stuffing his things into his old school bag. Ron had the sparse beginnings of a patchy red beard. They had not spent time with the spell that would have left their faces clean and smooth, not that they could have managed decent beards yet, had they wanted them. Harry felt his own cheeks and chin. There were some random wiry hairs there. He stepped over to the wall and wiped his forearm across an old, cracked, and very dusty mirror.

He leaned in and examined his face. He thought the face staring back at him seemed older and more care-worn than a seventeen-year-old's face ought to be. He rubbed his cheek and chin one more time, and then crossed to his own pack.

It had not been a few weeks, but a few months since they had left the castle in the middle of the night. They had left in December and now it was the last week of February. It became their custom to check the Daily Prophet each day to see if their absence had been noticed. Nothing appeared in the paper. The news in general was not good and two missing students would hardly make the front page these days. Harry guessed that Dumbledore had done as he said, and taken care of it.

Apparating to a point outside the gates of the school, Ron and Harry hefted their bags and headed for the gates. They were met by four house elves who looked at them suspiciously. Harry raised his hands so they could see he wasn't holding a wand.

"We're students," he said calmly, "coming back to school."

One elf broke away from his fellows and moved closer to Harry and Ron. "Harry Potter, is that you?" a familiar voice squeaked.

"Dobby!" said Harry, smiling.

"Harry Potter has worried Dobby. Is you being captured again?" asked the elf in concern.

"No Dobby, just off doing extra lessons," said Harry.

The elves opened the gate and bowed them through. Harry promised to visit Dobby soon and then he and Ron set off up the dark lawn.

The castle still felt like home to Harry. Few windows gleamed with light but even so, it seemed warm and inviting to Harry. It was too bad that the first thing he had to do was to disrupt its relative calm.

Inside the door, Ron and Harry unwrapped the scarves from their faces and stowed their gloves in their jacket pockets, then headed for the stairs. On the first landing, they ran into Professor McGonagall, who looked at them as though she had seen a particularly horrible ghost. She gasped and clutched at her chest, taking a step back.

"Potter, Weasley, You're back!" she managed in a choked voice.

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. "Give me your bag, Harry," Ron said. "I'll see you later in the common room. I have to find someone." Ron winked at him and strode off.

"Where…where have the both of you been?" said McGonagall in a tone that was both admonitory and concerned, as she stared from Harry to the retreating back of Ron.

"I can't tell you that Professor," said Harry, a note of calm authority in his voice. "I need to see Professor Dumbledore immediately."

"The headmaster is not well, Potter," said McGonagall stiffly.

Harry felt as though his stomach were suddenly full of ice, but he kept his face unreadable. "Still, I must see him…now."

She considered him for a moment then said, "Follow me, then."

McGonagall led the way to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office, gave the password, and then stepped onto the spiral stair. She did not knock at the door but walked in, as Harry followed in her wake. Without stopping, she proceeded to the back of the office, behind Dumbledore's desk, and to a door that was partially covered by a curtain. Harry had never noticed it before.

He had a brief feeling of trespass as McGonagall led him through this door and on to another moving stair, which took them up, yet again. At the top, Harry found himself in an elegant and well-furnished room that held a massive four-poster bed, draped in embroidered hangings. There were several overstuffed and comfortable looking chairs near a handsome fireplace. Bookshelves graced one side of the circular room, with books, large and small, spilling out on to the floor in stacks, and filling a large table in front of them. Situated in the bed, covers drawn up to his chest, was Albus Dumbledore. Harry could not help noticing that Dumbledore appeared as pale as the sheets on which he was laying.

"Ahh, Harry!" said Dumbledore in weak but light voice. He raised himself slowly and painfully to a sitting position. McGonagall rushed forwards and arranged his pillows behind him. "So kind," he murmured to her. Then he said, "I am fine, Minerva," when she continued to fuss over him.

"Sir, are you ill?" asked Harry.

"The ravages of age, I am afraid," said Dumbledore. "But that is not important now. I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you returned. You know you gave us all quite a turn."

Harry glanced at McGonagall who had remained in the room. He decided that what he had to explain would shortly affect all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, so there was no point in keeping it from her.

"Well, sir, as I explained in my note, I thought I needed to really concentrate on my ...uhh...spell work. Ron agreed to come along for company." Harry had given this some thought. There was no real good to be gained from telling Dumbledore that Ron could help him with the spell. The fewer who knew this the better. He hoped that in their absence Ginny and Hermione had not mentioned it. Dumbledore seemed to make no sign, so Harry continued. "I knew of a place we could go and where I doubted we would be found. That's where we've been the whole time… working," he said.

Dumbledore continued to look at him but did not ask questions. McGonagall remained silent. He decided to plow on and tell them the rest.

"I figure that I'm ready, sir. Ron thinks so too. I've been getting the Prophet. I know that things are getting worse by the day. I was almost afraid that Hogwarts would be closed by the time we returned. So there is no sense waiting. I know I could wait, hide... put it off longer, but it would just mean more people killed."

"Potter…" began McGonagall with an edge of fear in her voice.

Harry cut across her forcefully, "I sent Voldemort and owl two days ago." The silence in the room was complete.

McGonagall sucked in a hard breath. "You did what?" she demanded.

Harry did not look at her, but instead continued to stare at Dumbledore. The headmaster did not appear surprised but rather resigned. "He must have been pleased to receive your correspondence. I trust he replied at once."

"Yes sir," said Harry, "I told him where and when I'd meet him, and under what conditions. He…agreed."

"I'm sure you know, dear boy that he will not play fair in this duel," replied Dumbledore.

Harry sighed, "No, he won't. However, it will take place in a week. I told him I'd meet him in the middle of the lake, between here and Hogsmeade. The lake is still frozen solid. I'll be able to see who is coming. There won't be anywhere to hide or to create an ambush. Of course, there won't be any place for our side to hide either. In any event, I want everyone, except for Voldemort and me, to remain well back."

"What about the Death Eaters. What are your thoughts?" asked the headmaster as though asking what Harry might fancy for dinner. "They will not wait patiently I think."

"We'll need all the help we can muster to fight them once Voldemort and I have done with it," said Harry flatly. "I thought the lake was close enough to the protections of the castle in case the Death Eaters win through. Whoever chooses to stand with me may still have a chance."

Dumbledore did not take his eyes off Harry's. "Minerva, please alert the Order. Have Kingsley contact the Aurors office and the hit wizard squad. Have him tell them only that we have been tipped off about a pending attack. Get them into alert status. Have the Order meet here tomorrow night so that Harry can explain what he'd like done."

McGonagall, who normally responded immediately and efficiently to any request from Dumbledore, hesitated. "But Albus, what..."

"Minerva, please," he said with finality, and she turned and hurried from the room.

"Harry, I will help you in any way I can. I am guessing you have a strategy?"

Harry nodded.

"Very well then. I cannot say that I am happy about this turn of events, but I know there is no alternative, in the end." Dumbledore laid a thin hand on Harry's arm, "Do you feel ready? Do not answer that. Of course you do. You, Harry Potter, are without a doubt the bravest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I wish you luck." He squeezed Harry's arm then he chuckled to himself, "You sent Voldemort an owl? How very cheeky." Then his wrinkled old face crinkled into a smile.

Harry noticed the way the thin, veined hand shook as it moved away from his forearm. "I'll go now, sir. Thanks for calling in the Order. I will want their help."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry," said the headmaster.

Harry left the room feeling oddly detached, as though someone else were saying these things. It didn't seem possible that he was about to command a force of wizards now that his letter had set the thing in motion. He felt a crack in his façade of control. Who was _he_ to be organizing a battle for the salvation of the wizarding world? Doubt tickled his brain.

Before he knew it, his feet had carried him back to Gryffindor tower. The Fat Lady looked down at him from her portrait. "Don't know the password, do you," she said imperiously.

"No," said Harry, resignedly, "I don't."

"Never mind," she said. "It's _gilly weed_. I can't see it would hurt anything to tell you… just this once," and with that, she swung open.

When Harry climbed into the common room, his eyes fell immediately on Ginny, who looked up and rose slowly from her chair. Harry was struck by how beautiful and sad she looked. Ginny was a woman now. He didn't know why that thought had struck him so. Sixteen was certainly still young, but she had been through a lot over the past year. The innocent aspect had left her face. Killing Malfoy, perhaps, or being captured and tortured…in any event the sweet innocence had vanished, replaced by a much more knowing and mature look. Still, it suited her.

Behind him, Ron and Hermione were climbing into the common room. Hermione was talking quickly and animatedly, and holding Ron's hand.

She cried, "Harry!" when she noticed him and flung her arms around him. "I was so worried! You should have told us what you were planning…"

Before she could start in on him, Ron pulled her over toward the fire. "Let him be for now," Ron said, and she allowed herself to be dragged away.

Ginny walked slowly across the room, a smile warming her face. She slid her arms slowly around his middle and laid her head against his chest. "Harry," she said in a whisper. "You're back."

She felt so good pressed against him. Harry breathed in the fragrance of her hair. He raised her face toward his and their lips met. That simple kiss gave him more courage than a hundred spells could have.


	14. A Legacy

**Author's Note: **To my many loyal readers, thanks for being patient. I know I have taken a bit of time with this chapter, but hopefully it is a good one. I wanted to point out two things. First, I need to give credit to The Moody Blues for the song lyrics at the end of the chapter. Second, you will notice something at the end of the chapter that is similar to sometime early on in HBP. I swear on my stack of HP novels that I wrote that part months before HBP came out.

**Chapter Thirteen – A Legacy **

Harry sat in the common room with Ron, Hermione and Ginny for several hours. Hermione was keen to hear how their practicing had progressed but even more, she wanted to know why Harry suddenly thought he was ready to face Voldemort.

"What are you thinking, Harry?" asked Hermione. "You don't have to do this now you know. Why… school isn't even over. You haven't taken your NEWTs yet or anything."

"Hermione," said Ron with a note of exasperation in his voice. "Do you think Voldemort cares if Harry has any NEWTs? Once he takes over, the school is done…unless you want to learn the dark arts, that is."

"Ron, you know that's not what I mean," she snarled.

"Look," Harry said to them, after re-checking they were the only ones in the common room. "Tomorrow night there'll be a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. I want you all there too. I'll be telling them what I told Voldemort in my letter. And then we'll have to discuss a few things…"

Ron interjected, "like St. Mungo's."

"Yes," said Harry, lowering his voice even more. "And Bagman."

"What about St. Mungo's and Bagman?" asked Hermione.

"I've got a plan to get Bagman out of the way, and to raid St. Mungo's."

"But Harry, there's so little time," said Hermione with a note of desperation in her voice. "According to Ron, you're meeting Voldemort in five days!"

"The more time we spend planning, the more chance for leaks," said Harry. "Too many people know too much already. There are some things I don't want everyone to know." Harry looked up at Ginny. Her fingers were entwined with his across the table and she was staring down at them.

Harry squeezed her hand and then looked hard into their faces. "I'm not telling _them_ the whole plan…but I'm telling you. There have been too many accidents and too much information getting out to the other side. I need every advantage when I fight him and I don't know who to trust…outside of you three. I need each of you to do something specific for me after the duel begins. Ron already knows what to do."

"Harry, what _is_ your plan?" asked Ginny.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Harry took a deep breath, and then explained, "Ron is going to be under the invisibility cloak. He'll walk out next to me when I meet Voldemort. The ice on the lake won't show footprints, so no one watching will realize what's happening. When it's time for the spell, Ron will link arms with me."

"We're pretty good at it," interjected Ron in an optimistic tone.

"Yes," said Harry. "I think it's as strong as I…we…can manage. If we just have a bit of luck, I think we have a chance," Harry said. "In any case, we need to do it before Voldemort gets much stronger."

Hermione sucked in a breath and looked from one to the other. "But…Still…I don't…" then she seemed to sink down in her chair. Harry knew she wanted to object or argue but that she was at a loss for words.

"Hermione, if things go…badly wrong… I need you to get everyone inside the castle then seal the castle doors. You can all escape through the one-eyed witch passage," Harry said, his voice trailing off. "Take any survivors with you that you can. Voldemort will want to take over Hogwarts if he's beaten me."

"But Harry," began Hermione. "If you're fighting, I want to be there to help."

"Hermione, if I fall, then saving the Order members who are left will be critical. Please say you'll do it," Harry asked urgently.

She nodded.

"Ginny, will you see that Dumbledore gets to safety? He's not well, but he's still the most important wizard in the world, and if I don't succeed…well…you'll all need him."

Ginny did not speak but watched Harry thoughtfully.

Finally she spoke. "Harry, I'll do what ever you need me to, but I refuse to think that you'll fail. I intend to fight the Death Eaters, but if the battle should go against us, I'll get Dumbledore out."

"I'd rather you stayed back…in the castle," Harry replied.

"Of course I can't do that," said Ginny with a slight smile. "I'm a Weasley and I'm going to fight."

Harry did not respond. He knew better than to argue such a point with Ginny when her mind was made up. He only hoped he would be able to find a way to stop her before the battle.

"So you're allowing her to fight, but I can't?" asked Hermione rather upset.

"Hermione, dueling is not your strength, but organization is," said Harry, attempting to appease her. "I need you to be the cool head…Please!"

Hermione nodded and smiled weakly.

The discussion went on for some time. Harry was extremely tired, but Hermione wanted to hear the details of the plans and to dissect each move. He had propped up his weary head in his hands; elbows resting on the table. When one hand slipped and his head bobbed forward, Harry decided that it was time for some sleep. They bade one another good night, and he followed Ron up the stairs to their dormitory room.

He slept well that night. Better perhaps, than he had for weeks. His plan had been set in motion and somehow, it was satisfying to know it would all be over soon.

The next morning, he rose and dressed without waking Ron. Harry walked down to breakfast alone. The Hogwarts grounds had developed a thick blanket of snow over the holidays, covering the unsightly vegetable patch and capping the turrets of the castle in a white and fluffy layer. Overnight, a misty cold rain had fallen and frozen as it fell. By morning, everything was covered in a layer of ice that enclosed each branch and twig on each tree. Even the stone walls of the castle were coated slick with it. Everything glittered and glinted in the bright light of a clear blue sky.

"It's like a fairyland," Harry heard a third year girl exclaim to her friend as they stared out the windows toward the grounds. It was beautiful to look at, he thought. He stared out toward the lake where the hard, icy surface stretched out, surrounded by dark fir trees. Swirls of icy snow whipped across its white, sparkling surface. Harry wondered how much blood would stain that surface in a few days time. Perhaps the blood would be his. He tried to shake the image from his head, then turned away from the window and hurried down toward the Great Hall.

Ginny and Hermione were already at the Gryffindor table when he entered the room. There were only about a dozen people total scattered at the remaining house tables making the room seem rather bleak. Both girls smiled at him as he entered and took a seat across from them.

"Harry, you're not wearing your robes," began Hermione.

Harry had dressed in muggle clothes. He had chosen not to don his school robes, as he had no intention of attending classes. He was about to direct a battle and could not be seen as a student, but as a leader. To avoid a scene, Harry replied, "I must have forgotten. Can you pass that porridge?"

After a hot breakfast, the like of which he had not enjoyed for several months, Harry bade Hermione and Ginny goodbye and headed for Dumbledore's office. He needed to discuss a few things with the headmaster before the evening meeting. There were some precautions that needed to be taken.

He followed the nearly empty corridors to the familiar gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. At the door to the study, he rapped with the brass knocker, and was invited inside by the slightly hoarse voice of the headmaster. Harry found Dumbledore seated at his desk, a pillow propped behind him, with Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout sitting grouped around the desk. They all turned as Harry entered the room.

"Harry," said Dumbledore genially. "Please join us."

The teachers looked troubled and tired Harry thought, as he crossed to an empty chair. Dumbledore turned back to his heads of house and said, "So, as I was saying, we will have to send the remaining students home. At the latest, this must be accomplished by Saturday evening."

Harry smiled slightly to himself. This was one of the main purposes of his visit. The students must be sent home before the battle. Obviously, Dumbledore had understood this perfectly well.

"But Albus," said Flitwick, "what will become of the school term. What should we tell the students?"

"I think some may refuse to go," said McGonagall. "They may wish to stay on and fight when they know what is coming."

"Only those who are of age and are willing and prepared to help The Order fight Voldemort should be allowed to remain," said Dumbledore flatly. "And…young Mr. Malfoy is a problem…"

"He certainly can't be sent home where he can give information. What should we do with him?" asked Professor Flitwick.

"I shall make arrangements to have my brother, Aberforth look after him for a few days…until it is over," said Dumbledore gravely.

The teachers all nodded grimly.

"Very well," said McGonagall, who stole a quick look at Harry. "I assume, Potter, that Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will be staying?"

Harry nodded, "Ginny too."

"Ginny Weasley is not of age," she said, an air of strictness in her voice.

"I think…we will have to make an exception in Miss Weasley's case. Her entire family is likely to be here and I doubt she would go home willingly," explained Dumbledore before Harry had time to say anything.

Harry had always imagined Ginny here, but relatively safe during the battle. Ginny was not, however, one to sit on the sidelines, as she had demonstrated the previous year when the Quidditch match had been attacked. Perhaps it _would_ be better to try to get her to go home to the Burrow. The professor's voices intruded on his thoughts.

"…Hogwarts Express can be in the station Saturday morning. Please say nothing until Minerva makes her announcement. After that…we shall see," Dumbledore was explaining.

The three professors rose slowly and prepared to leave. "Minerva, please make the announcement about the school train at dinner tomorrow night. It will leave the students the rest of the evening to pack before Saturday morning. I will have Draco out of the way before you do it. I don't want him going home with any stray information he may have picked up within the castle. Also…send Hagrid to me immediately."

Professor McGonagall nodded as the three departed.

Harry felt rather that the teachers had avoided looking at him too much. He wondered if it was because they believed he was bringing destruction down on them…on the school. Harry nearly voiced his concern to Dumbledore once the door had closed, but the headmaster spoke first.

"They are worried and they are a bit frightened too. They do not, perhaps, have the level of faith in you that I do, Harry. I am afraid that some of The Order members may react the same way tonight. You, therefore, _must act the leader_. You have taken on that role by calling out Voldemort. Do you feel ready to take on that most heavy mantle?"

Harry considered this question as he stared at the sorting hat sitting mutely on a shelf. He wondered if the hat had foreseen this in his future. "I don't know if I can convince anyone to follow me. If they don't, I still have to do it, don't I. If they want to survive and to defeat him, they'll have to help me," said Harry flatly.

"Very true, Harry," Dumbledore replied evenly.

"I have a plan, sir, to disrupt his organization and capture a bunch of his Death Eaters. I think it will make things easier," said Harry. He was keen to leave the topic of his personal charisma behind.

Dumbledore smiled at him, "I was hoping you had. Let's hear it."

Harry felt slightly less wound up after explaining his plan to Dumbledore. The old wizard seemed impressed and favorably disposed toward his ideas. Dumbledore wanted Harry to explain it all at the evening meeting. Giving speeches in front a room full of people was not to Harry's taste, but in this case, he had to agree it was his job to present the plan. His stomach tightened up another notch.

As he was about to leave, there was a fresh knock on the door and Hagrid came into the room. Harry had not seen his friend in some time, and his size, as always, was remarkable, as Hagrid filled the open space in the room.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," said Hagrid. "I hear you wanted ter see me."

"Yes, thank you for coming so quickly Hagrid. I wish you to take Draco Malfoy to the Hogs Head before dinner Saturday," said Dumbledore, pulling out a piece of parchment and penning a note. "Give the boy, and this note, over to Aberforth. He will look after Draco for us and keep him _incommunicado_, so to speak."

"Very good, sir," said Hagrid, taking up the note. "Ya can count on me." Hagrid winked down at Harry who smiled at him, then turned and left the room.

"Does Draco know yet that his father is dead?" asked Harry.

"No… nor does anyone else at this point," relied Dumbledore. "Only The Order knows what happened that night."

"Snape knows," said Harry.

"Yes, however we do not think he told anyone. He probably did not wish to give Voldemort a reason to suspect their plot," replied Dumbledore.

Yes, that would make sense, thought Harry. The greasy git was, after all, only out for himself. He wouldn't really care about Lucius Malfoy.

After leaving Dumbledore's study, Harry found Ron, and the two of them climbed to the top of the Astronomy tower to survey the area and to talk through their plan again, in private. The tower was extremely cold and windy, so after an hour, they decided the common room would be a better choice.

Preparing for the meeting was more work than Harry had anticipated. He began to make some notes, but had to re-do them several times, with the result that he was quite irritable after about two hours work.

Ron broke the tension by pulling Harry's attention back to the rough diagrams that Harry had sketched out. He intended to use them at the meeting.

"Forget the notes and just use these," suggested Ron spreading out one of the better diagrams. "Mum and Dad will be there at the meeting," he said in an off-handed way. "They aren't going to be happy about this at all. If they knew what we're going to do, Mum would go ballistic."

"You don't have to come to the meeting if you think they'll make a scene," said Harry.

"I'm not missing it, mate. I'm of age and they can't stop me. We made pact and I'm going through with it," said Ron, his voice full of resolution. "Don't think you'll get off easy, though. Mum is going to have a few words for you too."

Harry entered the Great Hall that evening for the meeting, feeling a bit queasy. Ron, who followed him through the door, took a seat in the back of the room with Hermione and Ginny. They had agreed it would not do to let anyone think Ron's role was more than a supportive friend.

There were at least thirty people in the room, and more were coming in from the cold, stomping their feet in the entrance hall to remove snow from their shoes, and greeting each other in hushed voices. The grim faces did not appear confident or receptive as they looked at him. Harry would have said they looked apprehensive. And why not? There he was, not yet eighteen and about to call all hell down upon them. He took a seat away from the rest of the group and wished he didn't have to be here.

If only the damned meeting would start, thought Harry as he waited for the group to assemble. In his hand, he grasped several rolls of parchment containing some notes and the diagrams. He now wished he and Ron had done a better job preparing them. They were crude drawings and not likely to instill confidence in the witches and wizards in this room. Harry tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. Perhaps he should go in search of Dumbledore …perhaps the headmaster would agree to explain the plan. Surely, The Order would accept it better if it came from him, instead of Harry. Just as Harry had decided to stand up and go in search of Dumbledore, a hush fell over the room.

Dumbledore entered the room, leaning heavily on a walking stick. "Thank you all for coming here tonight," he said, moving slowly through the crowd toward the front of the room. Dumbledore stopped in front of an empty chair and faced the group. "As I indicated in the communication, this meeting is of vital importance. You will doubtless have noticed that we are joined tonight by Harry Potter. Harry will be addressing us in a moment."

Harry's stomach was knotted so tightly that he thought he might be sick right here in front of the whole group.

"First, I need to fill you all in on something of great importance. We have been fighting Lord Voldemort for a long time now. During all these years, I have kept one very important fact from you. It was necessary that I keep this information secret so as to protect Harry." The room was deadly silent. "Harry Potter was designated by a prophecy, made before his birth, to be the only person who can kill Voldemort. Voldemort himself sealed the terms of the prophecy when he attacked Harry as a baby."

There was a communal intake of breath around the room. Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley who already knew the truth and saw his jaw tighten and his eyes become tense. Faces were turning toward Harry surreptitiously. "Harry will address us now," Dumbledore said as he sunk heavily into his chair.

Harry cleared his throat and climbed to his feet. The room full of wizards twisted in their seats to face him. Mrs. Weasley was clutching at her husbands arm, shock on her face. Fred and George were looking at him with awe. Lupin, who also knew the truth, was not looking at Harry but staring at the floor.

Harry was not fond of the role of speechmaker. Fighting was one thing, and making a speech to convince others to fight, was quite another. He felt flushed and a bit dizzy with everyone looking up at him, waiting to hear what he'd say. Still, he could not let on that he was wishing he were anywhere else but standing before them. He was about to face Voldemort and it was important to inspire confidence in those who would be standing by when he did it. He rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on the sides of his pants legs and then said what he had rehearsed in his head.

"Thank you all for coming," he began. He thought his voice sounded thin and hollow in the silent room. "As Professor Dumbledore said, it seems I have to face Voldemort. I've been training for this since I found out, with Professor Dumbledore's help and also Mac's…I mean Professor MacNessa." He nodded in Mac's direction.

"I'm ready now," he said, attempting to make his voice sound confident, "and I've invited Voldemort to face me in a duel." Harry registered the faces in the room wince when he said the name. "It will take place on Monday."

Voices rose up from around the Great Hall. Questions and exclamations of shock and disbelief broke out from all corners of the room. Harry ignored them all and plowed on. "I can use your help if you're willing. If not, I'll understand."

"You may be The Boy Who Lived, but you're still very young. What do you know about fighting Voldemort?" came the question from a wizard that Harry had seen at Grimmauld Place, but had never met.

Before he could answer, a witch spoke up. "If you're destined to fight him, why do it now? Is there a reason to do it now, when you're so young? Why not wait?"

A third voice said, "If he's our last hope, shouldn't we be sure he's ready?"

Heated conversations filled the room all around him.

"Quiet…Please!" said Dumbledore in a commanding voice that reverberated throughout the hall. He did not sound weak or sick as he rose from his chair again. "Harry has faced more dangers than anyone else in this room. He has fought Voldemort and escaped to tell the tale, not once, but five times to date. He has fought Death Eaters and beaten them as well. He has nothing to prove in that regard."

"Harry!" said Fred Weasley, rising from his place. George stood too. "If you fight him, George and I will be beside you, mate!"

The sound increased again as some of the people began to rise from their chairs saying, 'I'm with you too,' or 'Count me in'. Kingsley was standing, and Tonks. Mr. Weasley, and Ron's other brothers all stood.

The room was total confusion as more of them stood while others didn't. Lupin rose, and spoke over the dim of grating of chair legs on the stone floor, trying to restore order. "This isn't a vote. We're here to listen to Harry's plan. Anyone who doesn't fancy helping him can freely leave. Let's allow Harry to explain what he needs from us, shall we?" The group settled back into their chairs and turned their attention to Harry.

"I'll explain my plan, then," said Harry hurriedly. He thought it best to keep going and ignore any looks of incredulity still aimed at him.

"The thing is, Voldemort and I have a date for a duel on Monday, out on the lake. He'll want to bring his Death Eaters with him. If I win, then they'll all be gathered in one spot and much easier to round up. If I lose, then they will follow their master as he tries to take Hogwarts. So the best thing is if there are fewer of them here that day begin with."

"Fewer Death Eater…wouldn't that be nice!" came a sarcastic voice from the back.

Harry sucked in a breath, and then continued, "The Death Eaters have a headquarters in the dungeon of St. Mungo's. I've been there and seen it." The room went silent. "The only way to raid St Mungo's is with the consent of the Ministry of Magic. Ludo Bagman is a Death Eater, so he'd never consent to send the Aurors in." Heads nodded around the room. Harry was glad Dumbledore had shared this information with them so he wouldn't have to explain.

"I want The Order to kidnap Bagman, then I thought we could use Polyjuice potion to impersonate him, and order the raid." The group was listening intently, now. Harry unrolled his diagram of St. Mungo's and pointed out where they would need to enter. "If we can capture a bunch of the Death Eaters unawares, then there will be less of them here come Monday when I face Voldemort. The fewer there are, the fewer we'll have to fight."

A rumble of approval met his words. Small knots of people began talking amongst themselves. Harry was about to call for quiet when Dumbledore spoke, and the room settled down.

"Please, allow Harry to explain the entire plan," he said. Harry smiled at him gratefully as the faces of the crowd returned to him more eagerly now.

Before Harry could continue, a familiar figure rose from his seat. "I'll impersonate Bagman," said Conner MacNessa. "I know what kinds of orders the Aurors are likely to follow and what the procedures are. I'll be able to go with them and make sure they do what we need them to."

"But, Mac," said Harry, completely surprised by this offer. "I thought you didn't want to…"

"I know what I said, boy," replied Mac gruffly. "This is different, and I believe you need my help."

Harry knew that Mac had spent years refusing to help in the fight against Voldemort for fear that he'd cause the deaths of more men under his command. He was, of course, the perfect choice for this particular mission, having been an Auror, but Harry had entertained no hope that he would be willing to take on the job. Harry smiled at him. "Thanks."

The discussion continued and assignments were given. After two hours, which seemed like ten to Harry, the meeting began to break up. He did not know what reaction he had expected from these secret fighters against Voldemort; solidarity, fear, pity? The reaction however seemed serious and tense, as though they were all very angry and worried at the same time.

As people began to leave the hall, Mrs. Weasley accosted him. "Harry James Potter, I forbid you to do this…this…thing. It's just foolish and dangerous. Please…please… don't do it." Her eyes were red and glistening as she grasped his arms earnestly. Mr. Weasley was attempting to pull her away, as Ron joined Harry.

"Mum," he said softly. "You can't stop him. Harry has to do it."

"But…" began Mrs. Weasley limply, as though she was in complete shock and therefore speechless. "He'll…he'll die, Arthur," she said in a small desperate voice as Mr. Weasley led her away. Harry heard her repeat, 'he'll die," as she was supported out of the hall by her husband.

Harry looked after her as the room emptied. Dumbledore stopped as he passed. "I asked Alastor Moody, Conner, Arthur and Kingsley to join us tomorrow to discuss the raid. They will be here after breakfast…in my office."

Harry registered how weak and ill Dumbledore again appeared, now the meeting was over. He nodded in agreement as the old wizard passed him. Harry wondered if the headmaster wasn't marshalling his remaining strength to help Harry, at great personal risk to his own health.

The meeting the next morning was quite brief. This was a group of seasoned wizards who had had worked against Voldemort and his Death Eaters for years. They knew what needed to be done, and soon all the particulars were arranged for. As they spoke together, they looked very grim and generally seemed to avoid looking at Harry.

As the meeting wound down, Harry spoke up, "I want to come along on the raid." The men all turned to look at him, their faces taut.

"Harry, the entire reason for the raid, according to your _own_ explanation, is to make it easier for us to succeed against Voldemort on Monday. If you are hurt or killed in the raid it's all for naught," said Kingsley in calm but firm voice.

Mac put a hand on Harry's arm. "You've called the devil himself down on us, boy. I know it's your destiny, but now you have to let others do what they can to help give you the best possible chance. Sometimes a real leader must simply stand by and hope the plan he has set in motion will succeed."

Harry nodded feeling faintly sick. It was impossible to argue with the logic of it. He _had_ called Voldemort down on them, but sitting on the sidelines was not at all to Harry's taste.

After the meeting, Harry sought out Ron and asked him to come with him to the Room of Requirement for some spell practice. Ron looked as edgy as he felt, and the practice did not go well. Their timing was off as Harry kept thinking about the plans for the raid, which caused him to lose concentration during the spell. When he produced a sudden rain shower to drench the two of them, they decided to give it up for the day.

Harry was tense and angry with himself over his bad performance, as well as soaked through. As they stalked down the corridor, soaked and cold, Ron was telling him not to worry, that it was just nerves, but Harry was sure Ron was concerned as well. What if he got out there, in front of Voldemort and just forgot what to do?

They were rounding a corner on the seventh floor, on their way back to Gryffindor tower when they heard a shout, followed by a scream of pain, from a side corridor. They instinctively drew their wands and ran toward the sound.

Ginny was lying on the stone floor, writhing in pain, as Malfoy stood over her, his wand pointed at her. "You dirty blood-traitor. How could _you_ ever kill _my_ father? You're nothing but a filthy liar!" Malfoy's face was red with hatred.

"Malfoy!" shouted Harry sprinting forward. Malfoy turned, lifting the curse from Ginny, and took aim at Harry. Harry did not raise his own wand, but flung it aside and charged head long at Malfoy. Anger such as he could not remember had ignited inside him. He wanted to rip Malfoy into a hundred pieces. He wanted to pound that nasty, smirking face into a pulp. Malfoy and his entire family were rotten to the core and Harry could no longer restrain himself.

Pent-up tension poring to the surface like hot molten lava, Harry leapt on to Malfoy, knocking him to the floor. Malfoy began to scream as Harry pounded him with unbridled fury. He was sure he was cursing as he slugged Malfoy, but he could not recall it later.

"What the…" came a voice above the melee. "Ron… help me break em apart!" yelled Hagrid, striding up.

Ron was bent over Ginny and trying to raise her to a sitting position. She waved him away.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" stormed Hagrid as he prised Harry off Malfoy and then put himself between them.

Malfoy was bloodied and bruised. Freed from Harry's grasp, he slumped back to the floor, feeling his mouth, which appeared to be missing several teeth. Harry was breathing hard and still felt murderous.

"He…cursed…Ginny," Harry managed, gasping for breath. "The Cruciatus curse."

"I'm getting you out of here now, you little ferret!" said Hagrid, turning to Malfoy. He grabbed the collar of Malfoy's robes and pulled him upright. "You're with me!" Released from Hagrid's grip, Harry made to rush at Malfoy again, but Hagrid elbowed him aside. Then he half-dragged, half-pushed Malfoy down the hall toward the staircase, a trail of blood droplets left on the floor in their wake.

"What happened?" Harry asked Ginny, wiping blood from his own mouth with the back of his hand. "Why did he attack you?"

Ginny winced and sat up a bit straighter. "I think he must have overheard Hermione and me talking in the Library. I thought we were being quiet, but he must have been lurking nearby," she explained. "Hermione was still on about not being allowed to fight, and the bit about Lucius Malfoy came up. Malfoy cornered me here on my way back to Gryffindor tower. He didn't believe it. He thought we were making it up, I think."

"Are you alright?" asked Harry, offering her his hand.

In answer, Ginny got to her feet with his help, and brushed off her robes. "I'll be fine," she said. "But, I should be asking you that question, Harry. You look a mess."

Harry knew he needn't have brawled with Malfoy. He could have easily stunned him. Draco Malfoy was not nearly fast enough to stand a chance in a duel with Harry, not at this point. However, as keyed up as Harry was, it did not take much to push him over the edge. The pounding he had just given Draco had only slightly abated the tension twisting inside him.

Ginny had insisted on going to her next class with Flitwick, saying that she felt fine. She and Harry exchanged a quick kiss, although Ginny had to dab away some blood from the corner of his mouth first.

Harry spent the rest of the day with Ron in a corner of the common room. They were disrupted for a short while around dinnertime as the few remaining students returned to Gryffindor tower, in a state of agitation, to begin packing. McGonagall's announcement that everyone would be sent home was met with something between apprehension and shock by the students. It was to be expected. They had no idea what was about to transpire. They had only been told that the school was too dangerous at the present time and that they were being sent home.

Shortly after their fight, Harry had glimpsed Hagrid from a window in Gryffindor tower, herding Draco from the castle and down toward the gates. He was sure Draco was being taken to Aberforth in Hogsmeade.

The following morning all the students were removed from the castle, sent off in carriages down to the train station, all except for Ginny, Hermione and Ron. Mrs. Weasley had sent an owl in the afternoon, in which she implored Ron and Ginny to come home. It was clear that Mr. Weasley understood they would not desert Harry at this time, and was not making similar demands. The four of them spent a quiet evening in the common room playing a subdued game of wizard chess.

Harry was on edge and could not concentrate on the game. Tonight, a select group led by Remus Lupin, was going to attempt to abduct Ludo Bagman. It had to be done carefully. It was important that Bagman's capture remain completely secret, as they needed to install Mac in Bagman's place. This was critical to the success of the raid on St. Mungo's.

Again, Harry was not to be included in this action, so he watched the clock and as midnight struck, he wondered if the group had succeeded yet in kidnapping the Minister of Magic. At two o'clock, the portrait hole finally opened and Bill Weasley clambered inside. He looked wind swept, as though he had just flown in by broom.

"We got bad information, Harry," said Bill tersely. Harry's heart sank. "We didn't get him. It seems Bagman was out of London today on a trip to visit relatives. He's returning tomorrow. We're all going to catch a few hours of sleep and then try again in the morning." Bill looked at Harry. "This may mean postponing the raid by one day, you realize."

Harry felt a tinge of fear rush through him. If the raid were delayed, there would be little time between it and his duel. Harry had planned the timing so there would be a day for the members of the raiding party to recover before he faced Voldemort, and before they needed to fight again.

Bill seemed to sense what Harry was thinking. "Don't worry. It's still a good plan, Harry. We can still do it." This was little consolation as Harry watched Bill climb back out the portrait hole, heading for his own quarters and a short rest.

"I need to see Dumbledore," said Harry, coming out of his stupor.

"Harry, nothing will happen now until morning," said Ginny in soothing voice. "Get some sleep and talk to him then."

A cyclone of emotions was keeping Harry wound up so tightly he could no longer relax or concentrate…or… probably…sleep. He flopped down on the sofa by the fire, knowing she was right, but wishing he could do _something_ other than wait.

Ginny took a seat on the sofa and put his head in her lap. She stroked his hair and face. His head was pounding and her ministrations felt soothing. He closed his eyes as the various scenarios where Bagman could not be found in time, played out over and over in his mind. Finally, he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

"We got him!" came the jubilant announcement that shocked Harry awake. He sat up groggily and found he was covered in a blanket, still lying on the common room sofa.

Light was streaming in through the windows and Crookshanks was curled up next to him. It must be at least nine in the morning he thought.

Bill was standing before him, "We got him at his home, Harry! He never even saw us coming. We knocked him out and brought him here. He's locked up in the cell Snape had, below the entrance hall. Conner is preparing to assume Bagman's identity right now…took some of Bagman's hair while he was unconscious," Bill explained. "It went very smoothly."

"What time is it?" asked Harry, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

"Nearly noon," said Bill. Then seeing the look on Harry's face, he continued, "We decided it's too late to call for the raid today. The Order members were up all night trying to track down Bagman. So…Mac is going to go in to the Ministry and make an appearance. Then he'll be able to make sure he has all the Aurors at his disposal tomorrow."

"But then…." began Harry. He could hardly say it. They would be cutting it all very fine. If anything else went wrong…then what?

"It might even be better this way," said Bill, bracingly. "Tomorrow is Sunday and there will be fewer employees at St. Mungo's…fewer by-standers in the way." He smiled encouragingly at Harry, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm going to contact Dad." Then Bill left.

Harry traipsed down to the entrance hall and spotted Lupin standing guard in front of the door that led down to the cell where Bagman was being kept. He gave Lupin a small wave before going into the Great Hall for some lunch. The first part of his plan had been successful. Right now, Mac was impersonating the Minister of Magic. Tomorrow night it seemed, The Order aided by the Aurors, would raid St. Mungo's.

Harry knew he must look a fright as he approached his friends who were having lunch together. They all stopped and looked up at him with unease when he approached the table. "Hi," he managed as he sat down.

"Did you sleep alright, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Great," he lied. "Just great."

It seemed they had seen Bill and knew about Bagman. This left little to discuss so the table was very quiet. Small, everyday things seemed too mundane to bring up, so they ate lunch with very little conversation.

"I don't know what Dumbledore has in mind for Bagman," replied Harry, when Hermione raised the question after a very long silence. He took a drink of pumpkin juice and stabbed at his roast potato with his fork. "I don't care what they do with him. I guess we'll worry about that after Monday." Harry, having no appetite, finally pushed his plate away.

His friends winced at the mention of _Monday_. There was a finality to the word that made it hang in the air ominously.

Harry was on tender-hooks the rest of the day. There seemed to be nothing he could do. He _had_ volunteered to make up the Polyjuice potion that Mac needed to take each hour, but Mac told him that he had a sufficient supply for the task. He tried to practice with Ron in the afternoon, in the Room of Requirement, but again he found that he could not focus.

"I'll be alright when we're in front of the real thing," he told Ron as they gave it up as a bad job, after two hours. Ron nodded confidently at him, but in his heart, Harry re-played the same doubt that had arisen the previous day. What if he completely crumbled when Voldemort and he were face-to-face? What if he couldn't manage the spell at all?

That night was no better than the previous one. Harry tossed and twisted in his bed, getting up frequently to check the time, then pounding his pillow as he tried to get comfortable and relax. His dreams were not the comforting kind either. They were full of ominous black figures with snake-like faces, bearing down on him while shrieks and cries of pain rose around him.

Before dawn, he rose and dressed in the darkness. He did not wake Ron who was snoring loudly in the next bed. Wrapping his cloak around himself, he set off for the Astronomy tower. He had to prove to himself that he could still bring off a decent air spell. Two days of failed practices were now making him crazy with worry.

The empty castle was a relief this morning, because he met no one, nor did he expect to, as he made his way to top of the tower. Harry stood on the wind-swept parapet and gazed up at the fathomless black sky. He thought of his parents and of Sirius who had died to protect him. He could not let them down. He had to do this and do it right.

Harry gathered himself and raised his arms, then tapped into the magic from deep within himself. The familiar feeling surged through him as the storm formed over his head, lightening flashing. With all the force of his pent-up agitation, he directed the lightening blast at the ground. It made a loud, satisfying, crack as it slammed into the lawn, far below.

Harry felt slightly better as he made his way back down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. He thought he might even be able to manage a bit of food this morning.

The Great Hall now held an assortment of wizards and witches from The Order, huddled in small groups at various house tables. Harry spotted Hermione who was seated alone with a copy of the Daily Prophet propped up in front of her. He strode quickly past everyone else and took a seat next to her.

Hermione cleared her throat. "What…em…should we be doing today?" she asked tentatively.

"Well…everyone will get an assignment later today, but really, there will only be two groups; those fighting, and those helping the injured," said Harry in a falsely calm voice that did not seem like his own. He reached for a plate of eggs and spooned some on to his plate. He looked up, and those seated about the room looked away, or back at their own plates.

"It's like they're afraid of me," said Harry in a whisper.

"Of course they are, Harry. What do you expect? They don't know all that's been leading up to this, and they don't really know_ you _either. And, even if they did, they'd be bound to be concerned," said Hermione.

She was right of course, but the pronouncement seemed to deflate the tiny bubble of hope that bringing off the air spell had produced in him. Harry had felt like a person alone, since his and Ron's return from Scotland. Everyone was treating him very carefully. Everyone seemed to be avoiding saying what they really thought. Ginny was the exception. However, even though she did not look away from him, but looked deeply into his eyes… and his soul… she said very little.

Harry finished his breakfast in silence. Ron and Ginny came into the hall as the grey morning light began to fill the room. Ginny took a seat next to Harry, while Ron plopped down across from him.

"Dismal lot, aren't they?" Ron said, taking a bowl of porridge, and looking around the room.

Ginny did not respond, but rested her hand on Harry's leg, under the table. It felt warm and reassuring and he was grateful for this small token of affection.

"C'mon Ron, let's…take a fly around the pitch," said Harry, jumping up from the table nervously.

"I'm just eating," complained Ron, thickly, through a mouthful of hot porridge.

"Bring it with you," said Harry.

Ron stuck a piece of toast into his mouth and picked up his half eaten porridge, then followed Harry from the room, looking back at Hermione and Ginny, and shrugging his shoulders.

Hermione finished her paper and stood up to leave.

"Hermione, wait," said Ginny, grabbing her wrist.

"What is it?" asked Hermione turning back toward her.

"I have a question," Ginny said, a note of hesitation in her voice. "Do you think that it's ever all right to do something sort of under-handed if it will result in something good?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, considering Ginny.

"Well…for example, would it be wrong to…em…steal food if you were stealing it to save a starving person?"

Hermione looked at her and made a face, "I guess it would depend if that were the only way for the person to get food."

Ginny scowled, "That wasn't a good example."

As she cast about for a better one, Hermione sank back down next to her. Ginny tried again, "What if you…did something people would frown upon….but it was completely out of love and a wish to do something important and…right."

"What exactly are you talking about?" asked Hermione, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Ginny sighed, "It's only a hypothetical question, Hermione. It's…it's…" She paused then said in a business-like way, "We have more important things to worry about right now, don't we. Just forget it."

Hermione looked lost, but followed Ginny as she rose and walked towards the door. "I hope Harry can concentrate on his flying enough that he doesn't fall off his broom. Some fresh air will do him good," she said casually. Hermione watched her friend with a frown.

Harry paced the common room that afternoon, full of nervous energy. After trying to distract him, his friends finally left him to pace. He felt immensely guilty at having set something so dangerous as this raid, in motion, then sitting back to watch the outcome from a safe distance. It was not like him and he did not enjoy the sensation.

Ginny watched him with concern. Occasionally, when he sat down, she would squeeze his hand in a reassuring manner. He felt guilty that he could not return her gesture just now. He was much too keyed up. The entire day passed this way.

At dusk, Harry was summoned to the anteroom off the Great Hall to meet with Dumbledore before dinner. On the way down, he ran into Professor McGonagall at the top of the marble stairs as he made his way toward the entrance hall. She looked very care –worn and glanced at Harry with great sympathy on her face. Harry took the opportunity to ask a question that had been bothering him.

"Professor," he said. "How ill is Professor Dumbledore?"

McGonagall turned away and did not look at him. "I'm afraid, Potter, that the headmaster is overexerting himself just now. He's very old you know, and he's felt poorly for several months." She stopped and put a hand on his arm. Harry could see tears standing in her eyes. "Albus would not want you worrying over him at this time. Keep your mind on the task, Potter, won't you. It's the _most_ important thing that could be."

The noise of talk filtered into the entrance hall as Harry descended the last steps. Luckily, Harry knew a way into the anteroom from the entrance hall, which did not involve crossing the Great Hall, which was full of diners. He didn't fancy being stared at any more than necessary.

Dumbledore was sitting in a large chair staring into a roaring fire when Harry entered the room. He noted how the tall, thin wizard seemed to have shrunken of late. Dumbledore looked up gravely, and motioned to an empty chair near him.

He looked intently at Harry and without a preamble asked, "Are you _very_ sure?" He looked expectant, "Are you _completely_ sure?"

Harry gave a bitter laugh. "How could I be," he asked angrily. "No, I'm not _sure_, but that doesn't really matter, does it. The time has come, whether I'm ready for him or not. You _know_ that." Harry rose and walked to the window, staring out into the blackness.

Dumbledore continued to stare into the flames. "Do you wish to wait?" he asked without expression.

Harry did not turn around, as he answered, "No, sir."

"Then we will get everyone ready…ready for the morning." The headmaster slowly raised himself, steadying himself on his cane. He began hobbling toward the door. The sound of the cane striking the floor roused Harry from his thoughts. He turned and came forward to help.

"You aren't well yet, sir," said Harry, "You should be in bed."

Dumbledore rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "There is nothing more important than this, Harry." At the door he stopped. "You are very tense, Harry. I can see it in your face and feel it in your voice. You must master your emotions and you must keep focused on the task ahead. Do not become distracted…and Harry, get some rest."

"I'll…try sir," Harry said, holding the door for the headmaster.

The Great Hall was not full. Not the way it was when the student body was in residence. The faces at the tables were not the smooth, round faces of children. The mood was not buoyant. The faces were grim and the mood, strained. When Harry and Dumbledore entered, the assembled group turned toward them irresistibly. The room was silent but for the sound of their steps approaching the head table. Dumbledore motioned Harry to sit. He, himself addressed the assemblage.

"We are all of us here to assist Harry in any way we can as he attempts to defeat Lord Voldemort. Some of you will be going on the raid tonight. I wish you good luck. You… all of you, are true and loyal supporters of The Order of the Phoenix. We now face our most difficult moment. Harry has been tested before by Voldemort, and has thwarted and escaped him. Tomorrow, Harry will face him again. We must help him as we can, for Voldemort has powerful allies who will not care if the fight is fair."

As Dumbledore made to sit down, Harry felt disconnected from himself, as though he were looking at this moment through a Pensieve, merely an invisible observer. A cough from the assembled wizards brought him back to reality. "Albus," said Mad Eye Moody, rising from his seat. "We can hold the Death Eaters back a while longer, and Voldemort too. The battle need not take place tomorrow. The boy doesn't _have _to face him yet." The old Auror's words made Harry's face go hot and his throat constrict.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but Harry found himself rising to his feet and all eyes turning toward him. "Uhh…Listen, I don't know why I was chosen to do this, but it seems I was. If I fail, then it will take as many of you as possible to resist Voldemort. The longer I wait, the more people will die. I… can't allow that. The longer I wait the stronger Voldemort becomes. At least, after tomorrow, you'll know what comes next." The room was still…the plates of food going cold in the silence.

"I'll leave you all to eat in peace," said Harry, moving around the table and striding toward the door. He paused at the last table and bent near his friends. "Ron, Hermione, Ginny… I'll see you in the common room later." They all nodded to him and he turned and left the hall. The stone floors and marble staircases rang chilly and empty as he climbed to Gryffindor tower. A few candles and torches were lit, but for the most part, the corridors were dark and deserted. When Harry reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, he said, "apocalypse," and she swung open without comment.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione returned within the hour, all looking pale. They took seats automatically around the fire where they had done their homework together in happier times.

Madam Pomfrey came in through the portrait hole a few moments later. The last time Harry could recall seeing her within Gryffindor tower was the night Ron had nearly been killed by Percy. She appeared very somber and she was carrying a goblet that was covered over by a cloth. "Potter," she said, and he rose to his feet. "Professor Dumbledore has sent you this draught of Dreamless Sleep. He feels that you are entitled to a night without nightmares. He is concerned that He –Who-Must-Not-Be-Named might attempt to intrude on your thoughts tonight. He also feels that you are far too agitated for your own good. He wishes you to leave your concerns about the raid to him tonight, and get some rest."

There was a note lying across the top of the cup in the fine thin penmanship Harry recognized as the headmaster's script. He took the note and opened it.

_Harry,_

_This potion will allow you a few hours of dreamless sleep. I think it will do you some good. It will not muddle your head, but allow you to awake refreshed. Please use it tonight._

_Dumbledore_

He took the cup from the matron. "Thanks," he said. He was quite good at keeping Voldemort out of his head now. Still it was a kind and thoughtful gesture. Madam Pomfrey looked him up and down, as though trying to decide what potions it might take to heal him the next time she saw him. He rather hoped that she'd get her chance.

"Harry, if I'm not convinced you will take this potion, I am commanded by the headmaster to force it down your throat. So what shall it be?" she asked.

"I swear I'll take it," said Harry, amused.

As she left, Harry set the cup down on the table.

It had been arranged that Fred and George would join Ron in the sixth year's dormitory room for the night, leaving Harry alone in the seventh year's room. They had decided Harry should have the dormitory room to himself, and undisturbed that night. The rest of the guests in the castle were going to sleep in the Hufflepuffs' quarters, being nearer to the entrance hall.

There seemed to be little left to say. The plans were set. They each knew what they must do in the morning. Everyone seemed to be lost in his or her own thoughts. Harry's head began to ache slightly, and he decided he would go up to bed. He didn't think he could stand the stricken looks on the faces of his friends any longer.

Harry said good night stiffly. They all stood. Hermione hugged him hard and then ran for the door to the girl's dormitory, her hands covering her face. Ron just looked at him. "Tomorrow then, mate," he said. Ginny moved over to him and embraced him. Ron looked away as they kissed. Harry's lips felt very dry and brittle against her moist, soft ones. Ginny backed away and let go of his hands, then followed Hermione toward the girl's dormitory.

At that moment, Fred and George climbed in through the portrait hole. "Harry, how are you doing?" asked Fred.

"As well as….I'm ok," Harry said half-heartedly. "I just wish I knew how the raid was going. Lupin was supposed to send me an owl."

"Easy mate. It's not that late. They haven't even started yet," said George.

"Tell you what, if any news comes, we'll wake you up, how's that?" asked Fred.

Harry could see they were all in accordance that he needed his sleep, and determined that he would have it. They were probably right. He picked up the goblet that Madam Pomfrey had delivered, rested a hand over the top so the contents wouldn't spill, and then he walked toward the stairs. Ron, Fred and George trailed behind him.

"Sleep well, Harry," said George seriously. "Call us if you need anything."

Harry nodded and climbed the stairs to his dormitory room.

It couldn't end this way, she thought. Even though she knew it had to be done, knew he had to face Voldemort, still she felt angry that they would allow him to attempt this. She wanted to scream but held her silence. Harry was, after all, more than just a boy she loved. He was the possible savior of their world.

Harry had decided what he had to do, and it left her only _one thing_. She had rolled it over and over in her head. She had thought so many times how she would express it, and what the reaction might be. She had tried to talk to Hermione about it, but could not bring herself to explain it.

Ginny sat on the edge of her bed. She tested her feelings and knew that her love for Harry was the only thing that really mattered at this moment. She rose and looked at herself in the mirror, fingers touching the charm hanging round her neck, that he had given her less than a year before…his mother's charm. There was no turning back for Harry, nor for her. She moved quickly and quietly, following Harry's path to the top of Gryffindor tower.

In all his years at Hogwarts, Harry had never felt so alone. He was sure Dumbledore was right to have had everyone, including Ron, allow him a good night's sleep. Still the dormitory room was too quiet. The entire castle was too quiet, and he was too alone.

In the back of his head, a small voice was speaking words of self-pity. Here he was, about to attempt to save the wizarding world. He was about to attempt to avenge his parents and Sirius, to name a few, and he was left in this room alone… with a sleeping draught…as alone as the night he had been left on a doorstep.

He knew he had no right to feel sorry for himself. He had chosen this path, so he let his thoughts turn to the first time he had seen Hogwarts castle, and how very magical it had seemed. It had seemed full of happy, positive, and exciting possibilities. Now it was an outpost of resistance to the greatest dark wizard of the age.

Harry looked down at the potion Dumbledore had left him and decided it was probably best that he take it. Dreams were one thing, but Harry was generally inclined toward nightmares and he needed to calm his fevered mind, not inflame it. It was very true that his dreams had been disturbing over the years and at times…prophetic. He had glimpsed Mr.Weasley being attacked by a snake. He had seen Sirius in the Department of Mysteries.

Should he relinquish what might be his last dreams ever, in favor of nothingness? Probably.

He turned and faced the window. Bare-footed and bare-chested, having donned his pajama bottoms, he leaned his shoulder against the window sash, looking down on the castle grounds. Tomorrow… he thought… tomorrow it would be over. He would be dead or he would be a hero, or perhaps, both. He longed for it to be over, longed not to live with the constant threat of capture, torture and death. He was not afraid of death. He did not fear it. He wanted life, but he knew that Voldemort must die no matter what that cost him.

He looked down into the cup of potion in his hand. Dreamless Sleep. He swirled the contents then tipping it back, took a large swallow draining half the goblet.

Immediately he felt as though a calming warmth of contentment was spreading through him, making the tension in his muscles relax, and his anxiety melt away. Harry had taken this potion once before, in his fourth year, after his fight with Voldemort. He crossed to his bed and set the half-emptied goblet on the bedside cabinet. He climbed into his old four-poster and sunk down against his cool pillows. Blowing out the candle, he pulled the blankets up around himself. He meant to pick up the cup and finish the potion, but it suddenly seemed a long way to reach, and he felt so very warm and comfortable just lying where he was. His brain was lulling him into a deep, dark, oblivion.

A creak and a sudden ray of yellow light caused Harry to try to turn his head and open his eyes. Then the light was gone. The soft click of a door lock followed. Probably Ron, he thought foggily. Harry's sense of time had abandoned him as he breathed slowly and deeply. He had the sensation that someone was standing near the bed, but it was such an effort to open his eyes. He was certain it must be Ron. The feeling persisted and finally he blinked his eyes open. Illuminated by the pale moonlight, a figure stood over him. It was a beautifully dreamy image that made Harry sigh. The figure, clothed in gossamer mist was looking down at him. Harry blinked slowly.

She pulled back the covers, climbing into Harry's bed. Her cool fingers caressed his bare chest as she moved against him. If this was dreamless sleep, it was amazing. Automatically, it seemed, because he certainly couldn't will his brain to act, he enfolded her in his arms and she pressed her lips to his. He returned her kisses, long and slow, as silky hair fell in a curtain around his face.

Then she pulled back slowly… gracefully, and sat up. Everything was hazy as he gazed up at her. She was like a spirit, barely material; reminiscent of an enchanted princess from a picture book he had seen when he was very young.

"Harry, I love you and it...it can't end like this. If he should kill you tomorrow...it just can't end like this."

Her voice was like a swirling night breeze to Harry. The words were a jumble to him. What they were didn't matter; he was content just to hear their sound. Anyway, it was too difficult to think about the words.

She pulled something gauzy up over her head, which looked like a cloud in the moonlight. That must be it. They were floating on a cloud under the moon thought Harry, drowsily. The ground was far, far below. In the dreamy dizziness, he could see her soft curves as she found her way back into his arms. He stroked her skin and it made him tingle. What a very good dream, he thought as she reached down and pulled loose the drawstring on his pajamas.

He felt her shake a little, as she fumbled with the tie. There was a monetary trepidation in her kiss. Something in the very back of Harry's head told him this apparition was not the effect of the potion, and although it was easy to glide along, allowing the dreamlike state to continue, he felt there was something he was missing, something he should understand about this ethereal phantom.

Harry fought to swim up to full consciousness. The potion kept pulling him back toward docile forgetfulness, so he closed his eyes tightly, tried to gather his wits, and then forced them opened.

He was holding…Ginny… not an apparition, but the real person. The girl he loved was in his bed with him.

She took his breath away, and the potion seemed to tell him it didn't matter why she was here, or from where she had come, be it dream or reality. He just pulled her tightly to him. His lips were on hers and she returned his kisses with abandon. He moved his mouth down over her throat, feeling her shiver as he did so. His fingers ran along her smooth, soft thigh as she nuzzled his neck. Harry was still apprehensive that she might vanish into thin air if he let go of her. As he moved on top of her, he looked into her eyes. They were filled with the same longing he felt. She pulled him against her, joining her lips to his again.

As the force of desire rushed through him, he realized there was something he should have asked. Although, perhaps she _was_ a spirit and it didn't matter. "Ginny," he whispered, barely pulling his lips away from hers. "Protection… shouldn't we do something….a spell or…something?"

"I…don't want us to do anything," was the soft, yet hesitant reply.

Harry's still foggy brain tried to recall all that Remus had explained to him about this particular situation. He really wanted to resume kissing her but he was quite sure where it was leading, and her answer, therefore, made no sense.

"Ginny…" he began. But the misty look of longing left her eyes, and was replaced by the daring and fierce look to which he was so accustomed.

"Harry," she said before he could go on, "No matter what happens tomorrow, you need to know I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

Harry smiled at her, "Ginny, you know I love you too." This was easy, he thought as his brain began to relax again.

She continued, "You saved my life. You saved my father and my brother. I want to repay the life debt I owe you." Ginny paused and took a breath.

"Ginny, you don't owe me anything. You don't have to…to pay me back…" Harry felt as if the potion was still clouding his reason, but before he could sort out what she meant by it, she continued.

"You don't understand, Harry. Your line shouldn't die out. No matter what happens tomorrow, Harry, I love you…I'll always love you…so I've decided. I mean to have your son."

If nothing else could have done it, the last sentence jolted the remnants of Dumbledore's dreamless potion from him. Harry tried to raise himself up on one elbow, the better to see her face. "My...son?" he said.

"Tomorrow you might…" Ginny now had tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I can't say it," she cried and he pulled her against him, feeling her sobs. "No," she said, putting a hand against his shoulder, "I have to explain." Her wet eyes shone in the pale moonlight, still bathing the room.

"I can't stand a world where the Potter name has died out. I love you too much for that. Harry, you're a great wizard and your line shouldn't fail. I've given this a lot of thought and I want to do this…I need to do this. If Voldemort should take over," she explained, "I want to protect what _hope_ I can."

Harry did not know what to say. He looked at her in shocked amazement. The full import of Ginny's statement was working its way through his brain. "You _want_ to have my child? Ginny…" he began, but he was completely at a loss. His mouth opened several times to make an answer but could not. "If I'm gone, that means Voldemort's won. You'll have to go into hiding just to survive. If we did this…If you had our baby, you'd be hunted."

She looked back into his eyes, "I've decided that I'll go away, out of the country, somewhere Voldemort is not likely to look. I'll raise our son in secret. I'll find him teachers…whatever it takes." She paused a tear running down her cheek, "Harry, you are about to put your life at risk to fight Voldemort. You're doing it to save what we both believe is good and right. I can't fight him like that, but I can keep your name and line alive."

"I …well…I can't let you do that," said Harry, not knowing what else to say. She was saying she loved him enough to give up her safety and her independence to raise his child. "What if I live?" he asked, although he was just playing for time.

Ginny looked at him and said very seriously, "If you live, Harry, I'd want us to be a family."

In the timeless silence that followed, her words washed over him. If he lived, she wanted to be with him. Well… _he_ wanted _her_…there was no question about that. Yet how could he let her carry on with a fatherless child, if he died tomorrow?

Ginny seemed about ready to make another argument but at that instant, Harry remembered again the conversation he had had with Remus nearly a year ago and he knew what he wanted to do…knew without a doubt.

A family of his own. Sirius had told him in the will that he should have a family and the thought of it was overwhelming and overpowering. There was so little time. However, tonight, of all nights, why should that matter?

Harry got to his knees on the bed and pulled Ginny up to face him. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. "Ginny Weasley, I love you more than anyone in the world. You've made me feel that anything is possible. You've made me feel as though I'm not alone. I want to spend the rest of my life, however long it is, with you."

A red swirl of glittering mist began to envelope them, turning around the two of them in bright sparkling spirals. Harry looked at it in wonder. Ginny gave him a look of deep surprise, and then spoke slowly, staring into his eyes, "I love you more than anyone or anything that's to come, Harry Potter. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want the two of us to be together forever." The red mist changed to gold and whirled even faster, as though there were a secret wind surrounding them. As they watched it, the mist glowed briefly and brightly enough to light the room, then it vanished in a poof.

Harry had a strange unearthly feeling of the utmost joy, a feeling so foreign it was almost frightening. He laid Ginny back down and pulled the bedcovers over them. Then Harold James Potter and Ginevra Weasley Potter consummated their magical contract.

A tapping noise from the window caused Harry to wake suddenly and fully. The sky was still dark and the room in deep shadow. His face was buried in Ginny's hair, breathing in the light flowery scent that he associated with her. His chest was pressed against her back, his arm draped over her waist. He could feel her slow steady breathing in the darkness.

Tap, tap, tap.

That sound must have been what awakened him. It would be the owl from Lupin, he thought. Never was an owl less welcome. His sense of duty fought with his desire to stay exactly where he was.

Carefully, he pulled his leg away from hers and raised himself to look at her. The rumpled bed sheets were twisted low around her hips and her hair was fanned out across the pillows. He ached to wake her, his hand suspended momentarily, over her cheek. Couldn't they could simply stay here, and ignore the rest of the world forever and ever.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, to climb silently from the bed, and to pull the blankets up over her bare shoulders, then turn away. But then, what good was this happiness if he didn't rise up and defend her?

The owl pecked insistently again on the glass, and Harry tried to shush it, as he crossed to the window and pushed it open to admit the bird. It stuck out its leg and Harry relieved it of its note. Immediately it flew back out through the still open window, which Harry closed behind it.

He unrolled the note and peered at it in the darkness. "Damn it!" he hissed in a whisper. He steadied his breathing. One thing at a time, he told himself, admonishing himself to calm and focused. He began to dress quickly.

Harry noted that he felt very clear-headed; as though he knew each thing he must do now. It was as though his brain were some sort of computer, ticking off each task. Shoes… wand… invisibility cloak. He stuffed the letter into his pocket. When he was ready, he took a bottle of ink and a piece of parchment from the table and penned a brief note. He placed the note on the bedside cabinet next to Ginny, and then pocketed her wand, before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Harry left the room, closing the door quietly. The lock clicked, but Ginny did not hear it.

She woke slowly, stretching her arms. It took a moment to recall where she was, then she realized that Harry's warm body was no longer touching hers. She sat up and looked about the room, wildly. He had gone! He had gone, and not wakened her! In panic, stomach churning, she threw herself from the bed, ran to the window. A light blue-grey sky showed that it was morning. Ginny climbed up to kneel on the window ledge. Frost covered everything. Her skin strung from the icy glass as she flattened herself against it trying to see him… to see anyone out on the grounds.

Out beyond the dark tree line, Harry would be facing Voldemort. Out beyond the tree line, it would be all over soon. She could see nothing. She got down off the ledge, skinning her knee, and rushed to the door, grabbing up her nightdress as she passed. The door was locked.

Ginny cursed and turned frantically toward the bedside cabinet to get her wand. It was gone. In its stead, there was a slip of parchment standing against the water jug, with her name written hastily across the front. She approached it in apprehension, holding the balled up nightdress against her chest. With nervous fingers, she unfolded the note and read:

_Ginny,_

_I love you, and I will forever. In case I die today, I leave you all my gold and property. I know this isn't a proper will, but I hope it will serve the purpose. If by chance I've left you with more than gold, tell him I love him too. _

_I'm sorry, but I can't let you out. Not until it is over. If I'm worried about your safety, I won't do my best against him._

_Harry_

_PS. Ron can have my Firebolt._

Ginny clutched the parchment to her chest and sank to the floor sobbing.

_The Story in Your Eyes_

_By: The Moody Blues_

_I've been thinking about our fortune _

_And I've decided that we're really not to blame _

_For the love that's deep inside us now _

_Is still the same. _

_And the sound we make together _

_Is the music to the story in your eyes _

_It's been shining down upon me now _

_I realize. _

_Listen to the tide slowly turning, _

_Wash all our heartaches away. _

_We're part of the fire that is burning _

_And from the ashes we can build for another day _

_But I'm frightened for your children _

_And the life that we are living is in vain _

_And the sunshine we've been waiting for _

_Will turn to rain. _

_When the final line is over _

_And it's certain that the curtain's gonna fall _

_I can hide inside your sweet innocent love _

_For evermore _


	15. Your Life Flashes Before You

**Chapter Fourteen – Your Life Flashes Before You **

Harry did not need bad news, not to start this particular day. He shut the door to his dormitory room as quietly as possible. Then he tapped the keyhole with his wand, locking Ginny in. Under the circumstances, he wanted her safely out of the way. She would hate him for doing it… but he hoped he'd be back in a few hours time, to endure her wrath. That was the best possible outcome… that he was able to return.

On his way down to the common room, he re-read the note the owl had delivered. As he passed the sixth-year boys' dormitory, he nearly ran into Ron, backing out of the room and fully dressed too.

"Couldn't sleep any more," Ron muttered, looking at Harry. "Did you sleep well?"

Harry nodded but did not look directly at Ron. In fact, as the previous night's events flooded back into his head, he waged a war with himself to suppress them. Thinking about Ginny and what they had done, what they had promised each other, was far too big for him to sort out just now. He would save it for a future time. Still his face felt hot as he swallowed those thoughts. Instead, he held out the note to Ron.

"It's from Lupin," said Harry.

Ron squinted in the dim light of the candles that illuminated the spiral staircase, and read it aloud:

_H,_

_The errand in London went well. Thirty of the items were brought back; ten more had to be disposed of. CM and eight others will be stopping by Poppy Pomfrey on the way back._

_L_

"No one who intercepted this would figure it out," said Ron, sounding impressed. "Appears the Order got about forty Death Eaters…"

"Yes," said Harry. "But…Mac must be hurt… and some others too. Let's get to the hospital wing. They'll be there soon," said Harry, taking back the note and stuffing it into his pocket as he strode toward the portrait hole, Ron at his heels.

"What time is it, do you think?" asked Harry who was not wearing a watch.

Ron checked his as they made their way along the dimly lit corridor. "Four-thirty."

As they rounded the corner on to the hallway that held the hospital wing, they saw Professor Dumbledore hobbling in the same direction.

"Harry, you are up very early. Did you sleep properly?" asked Dumbledore in a wheezy voice as he leaned heavily on his cane.

Harry wished everyone would stop asking him that particular question. He shrugged.

Dumbledore surveyed him critically. "Sometimes, a good short sleep is better than a long, restless one." Then the headmaster placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed. "I understand, Harry, that Conner MacNessa was injured in the raid."

"I know sir. Lupin sent me an owl," said Harry anxiously. "We shouldn't have sent Mac to do this."

Dumbledore steadied himself on his cane, "You know as well as I that we had to break down Voldemort's strength before you faced him. From what Arthur just told me, the raid was a great success, mostly do to Conner taking the lead. He got a group of Aurors deep into the dungeon. Unfortunately, the potion began to wear off, and a Death Eater hit him with a curse. Conner wished to do his part, Harry. Everyone who knows what this duel means wants to do what they can."

Dumbledore began to shuffle forward again. Ron and Harry exchanged looks. Harry had come to respect Mac, and regard him as a friend and mentor. He didn't like to think that another adult he cared about might lose his life in this conflict. He hurried forward to assist Dumbledore.

As they reached the doors of the hospital wing, and pulled them open, a bedraggled looking group of wizards moving quickly along the corridor toward them, whispering amongst themselves. They looked rough. Several were sporting cuts and spell damage. Some were holding handkerchiefs to their faces or arms, moping up bloody wounds.

Lupin was bringing up the rear with Charlie Weasley. Charlie was making a stretcher float in front of him while Lupin watched the man lying on it, closely. Harry saw it was Mac, white-faced and obviously in pain. Madam Pomfrey came bustling out into the corridor and immediately began shouting orders. With practiced efficiency, she soon had the various injuries under control, installing some of the men in beds and quickly curing some others. Mac had been placed in a small, private room near her office. She kept going in and out of this room with a concerned look on her face, and an air of fixed determination.

The matron insisted that Harry, Ron and the others remain by the door and out of her way whilst she worked.

Charlie finally came out of Mac's room to stand with the group. "Don't know what curse they got him with…did you see Remus?"

"He was down by the time I reached him," said Lupin. "I'm guessing he got hit by several curses at once. He looks pretty bad. It was a nightmare in that dungeon for the first few minutes…spells flying everywhere, and Conner was in the thick of it."

"But, Madam Pomfrey will sort him out," said Harry firmly, not wanting to be overridden.

"I… don't know," said Charlie shaking his head. "We'll have to wait and see. He's not a young man, you know."

Harry turned to Lupin who was standing silently by. "Was Snape there? Did you get _him_?"

"No Harry, I never saw him, and I watched all the captives being brought out."

"He's as big a threat as his master and he's still playing at being loyal to Voldemort," said Harry heatedly.

"He'll be finished when Voldemort is defeated," Lupin said in a whisper.

"If he's caught," replied Harry. In some ways, he was more interested in capturing Snape than fighting Voldemort. Snape had tormented him his entire time at school. He was a liar and had betrayed the Order…people who had trusted him.

As they waited for Madam Pomfrey's update on the wounded, Ron and then Lupin tried to send Harry off for some breakfast. He could not leave, though, no more than he could eat. He'd eat later…maybe…if he survived.

Dumbledore was finally allowed in to see Mac and about five minutes later, he appeared and signaled Harry over to him. "I'm sorry Harry, but there is a chance Conner may not…well…It will take a few days before we know the outcome. He is quite weak. I know how close you have become, I am sure you'd like to see him while he is still awake."

Harry had to ask the question that was niggling his brain. "Professor…Mac told me he didn't want to be involved in any more battles. He said he had lost his nerve and wouldn't help the Order…yet he volunteered."

"I suspect that your bravery gave Conner new hope. He was, and is, a good man at heart, and a brave one."

Harry hardly knew what to say. He proceeded to the small room where he found Mac lying in a bed. Madam Pomfrey was just leaving as he entered. "He needs his rest. I've just given him a sleeping draught, so don't stay too long," she warned, but her voice cracked and Harry was sure he saw tears in her eyes.

Approaching the bed, he touched the hand of his teacher. Mac smiled slightly but appeared to be in pain. "How are you?" asked Harry. He had no idea what else to say.

"Oh, young Harry…I'm probably dying," said MacNessa with a grunt. "At least that's what the tactful Madam Pomfrey seems to be trying to tell me." Mac broke into a coughing fit at the end of this sentence. Harry quickly pressed a goblet of water to his lips. "But… it was worth it," said Mac after a moment. He shifted uncomfortably in his bed. "We killed and captured a load of those slimy, detestable, warts on a troll's bum."

Harry couldn't help but smile.

Mac winced in pain as though a knife had been suddenly stuck in him. Then he relaxed a bit again. "Harry, I was wrong about not getting involved. You remember that, boy."

"I…" said Harry completely at a loss.

"Harry, my boy, I don't know what it is about you…You _are_ special. It shows in here," he poked Harry on the forehead, "and in here," and he poked Harry over his heart. Mac's hand dropped on to his chest, and he took a wheezy breath, closing his eyes. In a barely audible voice, he whispered, "I wish I could be there…when you kill him."

Mac lay still, finally overcome by the sleeping potion. Harry wiped his sleeve across his eyes and left the room.

Taking a deep steadying breath, he approached Dumbledore, Lupin and the others. Today was about his battle with Voldemort and he must keep his focus for the next few hours. After that he could worry, he told himself.

"How many Order members do we have here?" asked Harry before anyone could query him or say anything else.

Lupin eyed him shrewdly. "We only have four down. The others, even those who are injured slightly are insisting on fighting. Most of the Aurors are here as well. We were able to cover up the fact that Conner had traded places with Bagman. They still think they are following the instructions of the Minister. That means we should have seventy to eighty, all tolled."

"That's good," said Harry absently. "That's fine. Who's going to organize them? Kingsley?"

Lupin nodded.

"All right then, I'm going down for some breakfast," he said. He didn't really want to eat, but he did want to keep moving, for it felt better than standing and waiting; watching people watch him with pity and fear on their faces. Also, there was something important he needed to do before _it_ began.

He noted that the others were exchanging worried looks, but he pushed open the doors and headed toward the Great Hall. Ron dutifully followed him.

The entrance hall was deserted, but the Great Hall was lit with candles in the pre-dawn darkness, and voices carried from it. Here was another room in which he was regarded with fear… or reverence...he was not sure which. The people who were prowling about nervously, all looked up at Harry as he entered, but no one spoke to him. Harry registered the aroma of eggs, kippers and bacon, and it made his stomach a bit queasy.

A few steps inside the door, Ron and Harry were hailed by Bill who was seated near the wall by the door. Harry nodded for Ron to go talk to his elder brother. Ron was trying to support him, and not leave him alone this morning which Harry appreciated, but just now he needed a moment alone with…

Fred and George were in a corner, talking together and drinking what looked like very strong coffee. Harry quickly wended his way toward their table.

The twins looked up when he approached. "Off to kill the Dark Lord, Harry?" asked Fred casually.

"We were wondering…do you fancy a really good meal at the Leaky Cauldron after?" asked George.

"Ya," said Fred. "Our treat. Anything on the menu."

Harry rolled his eyes as they grinned at him. Somehow, those two could always raise his spirits no matter the trouble.

"Listen," Harry said to them, bending close and lowering his voice. "I've locked Ginny in the dormitory. I don't want her out there today." He reached into his pocket. "I've taken her wand," he said, laying it on the table next to George. "When everything is over, go let her out…OK? But not till it's over."

They both looked shrewdly at him.

"Harry, I'm sure you think this is for the best, but..." began Fred slowly.

"Do you know how hacked off that girl is going to be that you locked her in?" finished George.

Harry had straightened up, "Ya, I do. But it's the right thing. Please say you'll do this for me."

"Of course we'll do it," Fred said. "It'll be like releasing a wet cat from a sack, I suspect."

"The girls' staircase," sighed George. "How did you mange it, Harry? We were never able to work out…"

"Thanks for doing this," interrupted Harry before the discussion got too specific.

The twins obviously thought he was nervous, and quickly extended their hands to shake Harry's. "Best of luck today, mate," they said in unison.

"Thanks," muttered Harry. He couldn't think what else to say, so he turned and went off to find Ron again.

He was cognizant of the stares from the assembled wizards as he moved through them. The ones he knew gave him encouraging looks. The ones he didn't know seemed to be appraising his chances. He tried to watch the floor, or the walls, or anything but their faces.

A person rose and stuck out his hand as Harry passed. Harry turned and saw Theodore Nott. He must have remained at school after McGonagall's announcement. Harry shook the hand he was offered looking questioningly at him. Nott and he had a private agreement to help each other but only secretly. Nott lived in fear of retribution if the Slytherins or the Death Eaters discovered he was not really on their side.

"Good luck today, Potter," said Nott.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"I'm going to be behind you, Potter. Doesn't make sense to hide any longer, it's time to take a side," he added in a whisper for only Harry to hear.

Harry would have smiled, but he found he couldn't quite manage it, so he simply nodded, and kept moving toward the door.

Ron was standing near the door for which Harry was thankful. He wanted to get out of this stifling room. Ron had a piece of toast in his hand but he seemed unable to take a bite of it. As Harry got closer, he saw Ron raise it to his mouth several times, then drop it again. He finally tossed it on to a nearby, vacant table, looking slightly green.

"C'mon," said Harry. The pair walked through the entrance hall and through the oak front doors to stand on the steps facing out toward the lake.

"It's an hour yet before they come, don't you think?' asked Ron, who was shivering slightly, his breath visible on the cold, heavy, air.

"Ya, an hour…or so," replied Harry. The plan was to wait until Voldemort and his Death Eaters appeared before Harry, or any of the Order's forces walked out on to the frozen lake.

"Here," said Harry, slipping the invisibility cloak from his pocket and passing it to Ron. No one, but themselves, Hermione, and Ginny knew what Ron would be doing today and how he would be aiding Harry in casting the strongest spell possible.

Ron nodded weakly and pocketed the cloak. "I'll get it on….over there…behind that wall…when the time comes."

Harry nodded. "Tap me on the shoulder when you're next to me… then I'll start walking," he replied, although they had rehearsed all of this a hundred times.

"Ya…all right," whispered Ron mechanically. Neither looked at the other, but stared out at the lake. "Ice looks thick, don't you think?"

"Uhh…thick…probably," said Harry in a mumble.

Then they waited in silence.

Hermione had watched them as they moved around the Great Hall. Harry looked like a condemned man and Ron, not much better. She purposely avoided hailing them. First, she knew she'd just fall apart if she had to bid them good-bye again, and second, she didn't need them questioning her and revealing her own plans. She had found a place in a dark corner next to the far wall, and was keeping to herself. Hermione wanted to be free to move when the time came.

She hadn't been able to mange much sleep and was relying on strong coffee to bring herself around. She was _supposed_ to be assisting Madam Pomfrey today. She was also supposed to help retreating wizards get to safety. It was a load of tosh and she knew it. The only thing of any importance, or value was Harry's success today. After that…she didn't like to think.

She had known from the first that they would never agree to allow her near the actual battlefield. Her dueling skills were abysmal. She just simply could not get the hang of it. She scowled to herself. The numerous books she had read on the subject had never been quite enough. She knew she lacked the speed and instinct needed to really succeed as a dueler. Therefore, Harry had relegated her to help get the wounded from the battlefield. It was a noble task, but she had to do more, if she could.

Byron Ogilvie had written an excellent book entitled, _The Great Wizard Duels of Recorded History_. In it he stated '…it is not, therefore, the magical power of the wizard that matters in the end, but the preponderance of the circumstances that flow in his or her _favor_, that turn the tide…' At first Hermione had scoffed at this idea, but after reflection had decided there was something to it after all, and had silently asked Mr. Ogilvie's pardon for thinking him a fool.

The day Harry announced that he had owled Voldemort and for all intents, set the date for the battle, Hermione had started trying to figure a way to help _turn the tide_. As the Order members had begun arriving at the castle, the way presented itself. It had not been easy. Even now, she shrunk from Alastor Moody and his gaze. She had managed to sneak an invisibility cloak from his room. He nearly caught her too. He might have gladly lent her one, she didn't know, but it was one of those things one could not risk.

As though he could sense her thinking about him, Moody's electric blue eye swung in her direction. He gave her a small nod. She smiled weakly and waved, then raised her coffee cup to her mouth, hoping to block him out. He was a very suspicious person. In truth, he should be, she guessed… with a sneak thief like herself around.

Her plan was not as well formed as she would have liked. Grilling Ron about how he and Harry would bring off the spell had been a bit useless. She dared not question Harry any more. He was on the edge as it was. She had gone off to the Room of Requirement for a few hours and practiced shield charms. She was pretty good…there…alone…with no pressure…with no Dark Lord facing her.

Her nerves were frayed raw as she waited. After what seemed like an hour, a call of "THEY'RE APPARATING OUT ON THE LAKE!" rang through the hall. Once the company had rushed out towards the entrance to the castle with a great clatter of chairs and benches and with extremely anxious looks on their faces, she whipped the cloak over herself and followed them.

Hermione ran over her plan in her head. I might not be a dueler, but under this cloak, I can try to provide a shield or some help. At least, I can attempt to protect the fallen, whether, Harry, Ron or both. Hermione swallowed hard and brushed the hot tears from here eyes. She would be worthless if she dissolved at a time like this.

Of course, Moody could see through invisibility cloaks, but if she were very careful, by the time he spotted her, it would be too late for him to stop her. All she needed was a bit of luck, and then a good strong shield charm…should the time come.

Hermione kept low as she dodged and shifted through gaps in the crowd of wizards. She tried not to jostle anyone as she moved around towards the side of the group where she would be free to get out ahead of them…out to where Harry and Ron would be. She snagged the cloak momentarily, on a brittle and icy thorn bush, but was able to dislodge herself with a sharp tug and a whispered curse.

In the back of her head, she was also quite worried about Ginny. Unlike herself, Ginny was a good dueler, cool and accurate. Harry hadn't actually told Ginny not to join in the fighting. He would have known better than that. He probably assumed her parents would forbid her. Hermione had overheard Mr. Weasley argue with his daughter in the entrance hall on Saturday evening. Ginny, who was quite practical, appeared to agree without much of a row. She probably saw how important it was to her father. Knowing Ginny as she did, however, she suspected Ginny had her fingers crossed behind her back at the time.

Then there was that strange question Ginny had asked her in the Great Hall several days ago. While Hermione never could work out what Ginny was actually driving at, when Hermione stole the invisibility cloak from Moody's trunk, she had half expected that Ginny would have beaten her to it.

I had a rocky night, Ron thought to himself. Nightmares and stuff. Could have used a bit of that dreamless sleep potion Dumbledore sent to Harry, but of course, even Dumbledore doesn't know what_ I'm _going to do today. He glanced over at Harry standing next to him in the chill morning air.

He has the spotlight again, and I'm the sidekick again. This time I'll actually be the invisible sidekick.

Still, Voldemort won't see me… and with luck, won't be aiming curses at me, thought Ron as he let the idea slip comfortingly through his mind. Then he shook his head, admonishing himself. The invisibility cloak was not about his safety but about giving Harry a better chance against Voldemort. Ron rubbed the slippery fabric of it, stowed in his pocket. It didn't feel like much protection.

Fear was seeping into him from the frosty stone steps, and he could taste it in the back of his throat. _Push it down_, he told himself. I have a job to do and I'll be damned if I'll let Harry down now.

I'd do anything for Harry and I know he'd do the same for me. Mates for life, I guess we are, and we _are_ going to kill him today, even if we die doing it. That was the bottom-line…even if we die doing it. Ron exhaled and watched the fog his warm breath made in the frosty air.

He stole a glance at Harry. I expect we'll die, Ron thought, shuddering inadvertently. Perhaps someone would write a sad ballad about us when it's over.

_Harry and Ron went down to the lake_

_To fight You-Know-Who that cold day_

_He was scary and tall_

_He killed one and all_

_And in this old grave they both lay_

Ron called himself several harsh names for producing the limerick, the least of which was _stupid git._ Now the silly rhyme would stick in his brain.

To try to dislodge it from his head, Ron thought back to the night before. He and Hermione had talked a bit about Harry and about how he was born to kill Voldemort. What a thing to have hung on you! Then she wanted to go over the whole plan. I told her, I really don't do much while Harry does his air spell thingy. I just hang on and try not to pass out. Harry has the hard part.

I also told Hermione how much I love her, as though she didn't know it already. Of course, she broke out like a leaky pipe. Why do girls do that? I hugged her and rubbed her back for a while. She seemed to have a hard time stopping. It wasn't exactly the send off I was hoping for. Still it's good to know she's that worried about me.

Order members had begun to gather outside, standing quietly behind them. Everyone was looking out at the lake. Ron stared out at it too, and suddenly wondered where the giant squid went when it was all frozen over like this. Stupid thought! Really stupid! Rubbing his cold hands together, he stomped his feet nervously.

All of a sudden there were dark figures far out from the shore, appearing in twos and threes. Apparating. The crowd of wizards behind them began murmuring to each other. There must be fifty Death Eaters now…now sixty…or perhaps seventy.

They looked like one huge, black, living animal, moving slowing over the ice, making a sort of semi-circle. Blimey! That must be him! The single figure…alone… in front of them all, Ron thought, and a shiver ran through him.

It was time, and Ron nudged Harry slightly, so no one would notice and then he moved off toward the wall, trying to act innocent.

Behind the wall, Ron checked that no one was watching him, and then threw the cloak over himself. He remembered Harry's warning to be really sure he was completely covered. Luckily, the cloak was very ample when only one person was under it.

Ron slipped out and got in front of the crowd. Harry was moving forward as they planned…getting himself free of the group. Ron hurried to join up with him. Then…we'll go out…out to the lake, he thought gritting his teeth.

Kingsley seemed to be putting the rest of the company into groups. There was a low muttering and shifting going on behind them. Ron wished he could see Hermione, but she must be inside, helping Madam Pomfrey get ready.

Harry's face looked like something you don't want to cross. His jaw was working slightly, and he was staring straight out at Voldemort, and nowhere else. He had paused to wait for the signal from Ron that he too was ready. Ron tapped Harry's arm and noticed him startle a bit, then start walking forward. Ron quickened his pace to stay right at his side.

The Order and the Aurors were coming behind them. Ron was able to turn and see them. It was an impressive sight. They all had their wands drawn and their faces were menacing. Ron had his out too, although it did not seem like much in the face of the black horde they were approaching. I may have to stun some of them, Ron thought. Then he panicked as he struggled to remember the incantation for stunning. His mind had gone blank. Alarm swelled in him. _Stupefy_. That was it. Now, calm down and keep breathing he warned himself.

They were getting close much too fast. Ron wished Harry would slow down a bit. His face was as hard as stone and he was just glaring at Voldemort.

Voldemort's face…it's just like a snake's face, thought Ron, as they got even closer. Those evil red eyes! He makes my scalp crawl. _Harry! Slow down!_ Ron was shouting in his head. His sweaty fingers nearly fumbled his wand. Damn there are so many of them!

Harry finally stopped and Ron edged closer to his side, and slightly behind as they'd practiced. The Death Eaters and the Order had each formed a semi circle fifty feet or so behind their own champions. Ron stole another quick glance behind them. Immediately his eyes found Moody's and Ron knew he could see under the cloak. Harry had said that Moody would cotton on, and keep quiet, so not to worry. Moody's brow was furled but he was not turning to speak to anyone else.

Ron gritted his teeth and fixed his attention on Harry who was just standing there looking at Voldemort. The wind was whipping the hair off his face and Ron could see his scar.

"Harry Potter. We meet again," hissed the snake-like figure in front of them. "And…you've decided we should finish it," he continued sarcastically. "Those were your words, I believe." The Death Eaters sniggered behind him. "Your challenge was quite…what's the correct expression? ... unanticipated?" he drawled with a confidence that was disconcerting, no matter what Harry told himself.

"I thought we might as well get it over," said Harry flatly. "I don't want the prophecy hanging over my head any longer." In truth, it was the mounting body count he wanted stopped, as he considered the murderer standing in front of him.

Voldemort's features remained unreadable. "The prophecy…Yes…You wouldn't want to tell me the entire thing, would you? As you know, I've had some trouble hearing all of it."

Harry simply looked at him. "You killed my parents and tried to kill me without knowing the entire prophecy. When you did that, you only made things worse for yourself. Then you killed the seer who made it. You've made the wrong choices all along."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Potter, your parents were no great loss, nor was that poor excuse for a seer." He was trying to make Harry angry…angry enough to do something rash. Voldemort waited, but Harry said nothing.

"Not going to tell me then? I thought not." He turned slightly to his right and left, as though checking his Death Eaters were all arrayed around him. "Now you want to duel," he said, his voice rising. "You're a bit befuddled, aren't you boy? Don't you recall what happened the last time our wands crossed?" asked Voldemort. "I see _you_ still have your same wand, and I have no intention of dueling with a wand other than _my_ wand, so I fail to see the point of all this." His tone was dismissive, but Harry sensed the tension behind the words. He decided to see if he was right.

"Are you afraid of my wand? Because if I remember correctly, you weren't able to get my wand to give up its spells…but your wand did," said Harry.

"I was simply weak from the transformation," said Voldemort, through gritted teeth. "I assure you that if our wands meet now, the result would be far different…_boy_," he added with venom in his voice.

Harry looked at the abomination in front of him that all wizards feared. He was very like the ugly bully on the block; Voldemort was dominant because they all allowed him to be so. The only thing that joined his supporters to him was fear, and longing for power.

Harry held his wand out in front of him so Voldemort could see it. "I don't need _this_ to fight _you_," and he let his wand drop to the ice, holding out his empty hand to Voldemort. The thin piece of wood clinked and bounced on the hard, white surface as a communal gasp erupted from behind him. Harry could almost feel the eyes of the forces arrayed behind him boring into him, wondering if he'd gone mad.

Voldemort did not move or speak. Harry was sure he was evaluating this new development, and that he was struggling to interpret its meaning. Harry sensed that Voldemort was just a bit afraid of him, no matter what he said to the contrary. After all, who in their right mind, would drop their wand to start a wizard's duel, unless they had another weapon. Harry had bested, or at least escaped Voldemort enough times that this action _should_ cause the Dark Lord to pause. Even though the move was good, and was having the intended effect, in the back of his head Harry thought, _I can't believe I just disarmed myself_.

Voldemort sucked in a hissing breath as the Death Eaters' laughter died away. They had thought it funny that Harry had dropped his wand, but they had begun to murmur amongst themselves when their lord had not.

Now for a little extra diversion, thought Harry, before Voldemort could answer his action. "Snape!" he shouted. "Come out, you coward."

A look of momentary confusion crossed Voldemort's face, followed by anger. He did not like someone else running the show, nor calling out his own minions.

"Do you wish to duel with Severus as a warm up, Potter?" asked Voldemort, recovering his arrogant hiss. "I would suggest retrieving your wand in that case." Then he turned and beckoned one of the hooded and masked Death Eaters forward. "Here he is. What do you want with him?"

Good, thought Harry. It would be more effective with Snape present. It would be a much better distraction. He turned toward Snape. "Whose side are you playing on today, Snape?" he asked.

"Potter," rasped Snape. "You are beyond belief. You should be begging the Dark Lord's mercy instead of strutting around creating this embarrassing spectacle."

"And here I thought it was you who would be begging your master for mercy," said Harry. Then he turned to Voldemort. "What did Snape tell you about the night Lucius Malfoy died?" Harry registered the buzz from wizards all around the circle who did not know Malfoy had been killed. "Did he explain their little plot to you? Or did he just pretend not to know what happened to Malfoy?"

The uproar that followed from the Death Eaters was a counterpoint to the comprehension flickering across Voldemort's face. He stared at Harry, unblinkingly, and Harry returned his stare. This part had been the hardest to perfect, giving Voldemort only the one memory to read in his head.

Voldemort exploded with the cry, "Snape?"

"Master," began Snape. "The boy is a liar. Surely you are not going to allow him…"

"You thought to take _my_ place," said Voldemort, with suppressed rage and a note of dangerous interest in his voice.

The entire company fell silence, and Harry saw Snape take a small step back.

"I can see the truth in his worthless mind, Severus, and I am very…very…displeased." Voldemort's pale face was now livid with wrath although his voice had become deadly calm.

He sliced his wand through the air, and a jet of light shot toward Snape. Snape attempted a shield charm, but slipped and fell as he was backing away. He was too late. In an instant, heavy iron chains, as thick as Hagrid's wrist, began to wrap themselves around Snape. More and more of them spun out of thin air, pinning Snape's legs and wrapping his arms to his sides. Harry watched him struggle under the massive and accumulating weight, until a loud crack rent the air and the ice on which Snape was now laying, broke into several pieces, forming a jagged hole. Snape began to sink through the opening, being wedged momentarily between floating chunks of ice, but finally slipping beneath the icy water with a muffled scream.

This was the moment, thought Harry, as he watched Snape disappear. Voldemort would turn in a second, and aim a killing curse at him. The cat and mouse play was over. Now was the time to strike.

He reached to his side and felt Ron's hand clasp his forearm without hesitation. Harry plunged his free arm into the air and felt the power of the magic shoot from his fingertips, skyward. He let the elemental magic surge through him like a million tiny electrical sparks, all converging, combining and escaping wildly into the air. He was barely aware of anything around him. He could feel Ron's grip slack, but knew he could not stop to look at his friend. They had made their pact.

The entire thing took only seconds. He heard the mighty roar of wind and thunder overhead, stronger, surely, than he had ever produced before. Black clouds roiled across the sky overhead… and then came hail. Huge chunks of ice beating down on the lake surface.

Voldemort had whipped back to face him and was looking up at the sky, momentarily dumbstruck. There was shouting and the sound of running feet. Then the lightening began to form. Harry lowered his eyes and stared into the red snake-like slits of his enemy. There was disbelief there.

As Harry poured every final ounce of magical power he possessed into the storm grinding far over his head, the surface of the lake seemed to rock. Voldemort slipped on the pitching ice and his wand clattered away from him. Harry heard him growl "Accio," and saw Voldemort scramble to his feet, trying to get his footing…trying to aim his wand.

Harry couldn't make the spell any stronger, and he couldn't hold it back any longer. His scar was bursting with pain and his body was unable to bear the strain of it. In the far back reaches of his brain he said…for you Mum, and Dad, and Sirius…and Ginny too. He forced one final surge of energy upward – he would have but one chance.

In slow motion, he saw understanding replace the fear in Voldemort's eyes and an incantation escape from his thin white lips. But Harry had already aimed the full force of the lightening storm at his enemy.

In the white hot flash that followed, he saw the body of Voldemort rise up off the surface of the lake and twist itself into the form of a huge serpent. There was an explosion of light and sound, and though everything around him was closing down in blackness, he knew he had to hang on for one last second.

Then…there was silence and cold against his face.

Harry didn't expect to last long as he lay on his stomach sucking in, what he was sure were his last few breaths. The sky above him was perilous with huge, unnatural, black clouds and wild lightening, like crazy fireworks or an ever-changing spider web of jagged light. The very air around him was pulsing with electricity. It was bizarre really, as his own frail circuits were about to fail for good.

There was certainly noise around him but he couldn't hear it. His ears were not admitting any sound. Perhaps his senses were shutting down, one by one. His mouth was dry as brittle leaves. His lips would not part to let out a cry for help. He tried to will his finger, just one finger to move against the surface upon which he lay. No movement. No feeling. No smells of battle filled his nostrils, no whiff of smoke, no acrid scent of blood.

He had pushed the spell too far…much too far. He wished he knew if it had been enough.

Harry allowed his eyes to close and wished hopefully for the only thing remaining to him, he wished to see his parents, and perhaps Sirius beckoning to him with open arms. The pain was nothing now. He knew he should be feeling it, but it simply was not there; just a leaden body that he could no longer stir into action and a soul that was restless to be free of it.

Hermione was questioning her sanity as she stood on the ice in a position that put her in the very center of the battlefield. Harry's gamble had worked, and the last of Snape's black robes had just vanished below the ice. The lake was deep here she thought, savagely.

She told herself to ignore what Harry was doing and just watch the Death Eaters for signs of a spell being aimed at him. Suddenly she found herself down on her knees on the ice, as though an earthquake had rocked the surface of the lake, causing it to pitch. Hail began to fall, and the lake ice itself seemed to be about to heave up and break. Large cracks were running through it in all directions, making a noise like a hundred snapping tree branches.

She had her wand clutched in her hand, but was not sure her plan to shield Harry or Ron, would actually work. She had tried not to look at Voldemort. His voice alone was enough to freeze the blood.

She chanced a quick look behind her and immediately noticed Moody signaling surreptitiously to her to move back. Of course, he could see her. Perhaps he thought she was a liability rather than an asset. Her determination wavered. Perhaps she was wrong to be here.

The Order and the Aurors were all looking up at the sky. Just as she turned back toward Harry and Ron, a bright flash of light blinded her, and the crack of thunder behind it was deafening. It was then she realized Ron was lying on the ice, seemingly unconscious What's more; his cloak had partially slid off him. Just then, Harry slipped down next to Ron in a heap, death white.

She tightened her grip on her wand, and looked quickly toward the Death Eaters. They were yelling… stumbling… running forward.

Hermione kept as low as she could, crawling over to where Ron and Harry lay. She felt the panic rise in her chest as hysteria threatened to overwhelm her. She had to think…to decide what was best to do.

With strength she didn't know she had, she slid and dragged Harry and Ron away from the center of the fighting, through a forest of charging legs and falling bodies. The ice helped. A stinging hex hit her leg, but she ignored it. Harry was struck in the arm by a curse and blood streaked the ice as she pulled him farther from the battle. She cast a shield charm twice, trying to protect both of them from stray spells. Somehow, they were not trampled in the melee.

Ginny wiped away her tears. They would, after all, do no good. She climbed to her feet and considered her situation. Harry had locked her in to save her. That much was clear. Surely, Harry had also planned her eventual release. She tried the door again. She tried yelling. There was no answer. There was nothing to do but wait.

She needed some clothes, and went to Harry's trunk, rifling through it, turfing out Harry's school robes as she looked for a shirt and some jeans. The jeans she found were too long and big around the middle, but half a dozen hasty turn-ups later and a tight cinch of the belt worked sufficiently well. Then she pulled on some socks that looked as though Dobby had knitted them.

Ginny found the window that faced most directly towards the battle. The sky was now a flat grey that threatened snow. She still could not make out the lake properly from here. "Damn! Damn! Damn!" she raged to the empty room again, before striding back to the door again and rattling the doorknob violently. Grabbing up a pitcher from Ron's bedside table, she flung it at the door in exasperation.

As the minutes rolled by, marked by the loud ticking of a clock on Ron's bedside table, Ginny thought back to the previous night. It was a good memory even though it made her ache now. She prayed it would not be the last memory she would have of him. The note was he left her was crushed in her hand. She smoothed out the parchment and stared at the handwriting without taking in the words.

Suddenly there were flashes of light shooting into the sky. Ginny leapt to the window. A horrible, deep growling sound seemed to be coming from a dark vortex of cloud above the tree line. The clouds blackened and expanded as they swirled ever faster. The darkness seemed to be spreading upward and outward, and was crackling with flashes of bright, razor sharp, light. She held her breath.

A bolt of lightening such as Ginny had never seen crashed out of the swirling clouds and an intense bright white explosion like a bomb blast left dancing spots before her eyes.

Cries sprang up from down below, cries of anger, and triumph, fear and pain; a tumult that was indecipherable from where she stood. "What's happening?" she screamed into the silence.

Soon there were figures moving far below the little window. She couldn't make out who they were. Then cries of "It's over!" reached her high perch. Ginny Weasley backed away from the window, a thrill of dread sweeping over her. She blacked out, slipping noiselessly to the floor.

"Ginny!" she heard as if through a fog, "Ginny!"

"She's not coming round, George."

"No, I think she is, look she's moving."

The voices, so identical in everyway, were her brothers, Fred and George. Ginny tried to sit up and realized her head was throbbing in pain. Fred and George were peering at her with worried expressions.

"What happened?" she asked dully

"Well we came to find you, and you were passed out on the floor," said Fred.

"No…No…not me…" she said fighting for control, "What's happened to Harry!."

"You need to come with us," was all they would say.

The doors of the Great Hall banged open. Ginny ran into the room, looking wildly from face to face. She spotted Ron, looking pale and numb, and being helped into a seat by Bill. He lifted his face toward his sister, looking white as death.

"We...He…" Ron's voice choked and tears stood in his eyes. He looked away.

Bill too, seemed speechless. She herself was unable to speak the question, for fear of the answer she might receive.

Ginny registered Hermione slumped against the back wall, sobbing violently. No one seemed to have the will or the spirit to move to comfort her.

Every face Ginny looked into was unable to meet her gaze. It was a counterpoint to the noise of victorious shouting outside on the lawn. Then she noticed Lupin and Kingsley laying a body very carefully on the head table, in the center, where Dumbledore normally sat. Ginny moved slowly down the center aisle, between the tables, drawn as if by an invisible force, toward the lifeless figure. Fred and George, who had followed her into the hall, had torn the Gryffindor banner from the wall and were gently and reverently draping the body with it.

Scarlet and gold. The colors of Gryffindor… of bravery…of the bond the two of them had forged the previous night. Comprehension dawned on her. With fury in her voice, she screamed "Noooo!" and ran forward toward the table where the body lay, where Harry lay. Lupin grabbed her around the waist, trying to hold her back. Ginny struggled against him.

She could see Harry's hand hanging down just below the cloth. The hand she had held last night when she had promised him she was his forever. She could see blood falling in silent, shining droplets, off the end of one of his fingers. She shot Lupin a filthy look as she wrenched herself free of his grasp and flung herself toward the table.

Fred called her name, but did not stop her. She reached the table and pulled the banner away from Harry's face as tears streamed freely down her cheeks. So young, she thought bending over him. She stroked his forehead, placing her fingertips on his scar, and then fire lit her eyes. She spun to face the crowd. "He's not dead!" she snarled. "HE IS NOT DEAD!" She ran the length of the hall and through the doors before anyone could stop her. Her footfalls could be heard as she ran off, up the marble stairs.

It was a wonderful, although slightly frightening feeling…floating upward, out of your body, hovering above it, and then looking calmly down at the people in the room. As Harry drifted toward the ceiling, he became more comfortable with the feeling of lightness, having left his heavy, battered, body lying on the staff table below. People were sobbing and shouting but their voices didn't seem to matter very much. The turmoil in the room was only vaguely interesting, and the sound of it all seemed muffled and fuzzy.

Harry wondered just how far away from his body he could travel. He was a bit reluctant to leave it completely behind and soar up through the vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall, even though he felt as though he could do so. It was rather like venturing out into the deep water once you first learned to swim. He hovered serenely above everyone. He knew they couldn't see him.

Just then, Dumbledore entered the hall. He was supported by Ginny on the one side and Madam Pomfrey on the other. Madam Pomfrey looked as though she were doing this against all sense, and seemed to be muttering to herself. Ginny had a look of grim determination on her face as she focused on his body and urged Dumbledore forward.

Ginny. He did not want to leave her behind. Perhaps he could call to her, and she could come with him. He realized he had no voice to call her with. He sank down a bit from the ceiling to watch her.

When they reached the head table, Dumbledore extracted a small vial of ruby colored liquid from his robes. He bent over Harry's body and poured the stuff into Harry's mouth. A sudden feeling, like the attraction of a strong magnet, caught him and Harry was pulled irresistibly back down, and into his earth-bound form. It was both comforting and sad to give up the freedom of weightless flight.

He gasped and choked, his chest arching off the table violently. The sounds in the room pierced his brain like knives, as pain flooded his being. Then Harry sank into blackness.

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

One more chapter to go! I will try to finish it very soon. I hope you have enjoyed the story so far and that you will be pleased about the ending. In any case, I welcome your comments.


	16. Having a Future

**Chapter Fifteen – Having a Future **

The issue of the Daily Prophet, lying in a thin shaft of sunlight, was blazing with the story of the successful raid at St. Mungos and the capture of a large group of Death Eaters. The Prophet reported that the Minister of Magic himself had led the raid, directing the Aurors once they entered the wizard hospital. By-standers commented on the bravery and commanding presence of Ludo Bagman. He was, however, not available for comment, according to the reporter. This paper had been rushed to press the Monday morning following the raid on St. Mungo's hospital.

Of course the headlines the next day were many times more spectacular and over-shadowed all else. A fresh copy of that paper too, was lying with the first on the bedside table. It announced Lord Voldemort's demise and the victory of 'The Boy Who Lived'. The entire issue had been dedicated to that one subject. Harry's picture was emblazoned on the front cover. It was an old picture showing Harry when he was about fifteen.

The bedside table held a number of other items that had overrun the area of the tabletop and were now, stacked on the floor. There was a beautiful, black velvet box, which held an Order of Merlin–First Class and a proclamation sent by the Minister of Magic. The Dark Order Defense League had sent a delegation with their highest possible award that reposed in an elegant, leather-bound case. There were several engraved cups in gold, or platinum. There were any number of scrolls tied with ribbons and done up with impressive wax seals. Owls had delivered so much mail that a room had been set aside next to the Great Hall to hold it all.

There were many requests for interviews and a small tent city had sprung up overnight, just outside the gates of Hogwarts castle, as the public waited anxiously for news. Dumbledore had the gates locked and guarded, which did not endear him to the press. There was even a brisk business in Chocolate Frog Cards that now contained a "Harry Potter" card. People lucky enough to find one were being offered five galleons or more to sell.

The overflowing nightstand received yet another item that morning. The Wizengamot had sent a velvet-tasseled certificate, adding Harry as a member of their prestigious ranks. The note that came with it said Harry could attend any time he chose to, assuming he lived. None of this mattered a wit at the moment. Harry Potter, who was lying in a bed in the curtained room, next to all the awards and honorariums, had not yet moved.

"They are hanging around the gates like vultures!" spat Professor McGonagall. "It's a disgrace, if you ask me. And that Rita Skeeter…I think I can spot her outlandish outfit from here." Minerva McGonagall was standing near a window with her arms crossed and her face set in a very stern way.

"Now, now, Minerva… did you really expect anything else," said Dumbledore in a tired voice. He levered himself up slowly from a cushy arm chair and reached for his cane with a shaky hand, his midnight blue dressing gown sweeping the floor.

"Albus!" she said tartly. "Let me help you!" and she hurried to his side, grasping his elbow, and guiding him toward his bed.

Once he had been settled under the covers, he patted her hand. "Thank you Minerva, for bearing with an old man."

"Don't be foolish, Albus," she said. "A little rest…a short vacation…you'll be good as new."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Never as good as new, I fear. I mean to relinquish the job of headmaster to you, at the end of the term. I do need a rest, but a good long one."

Professor McGonagall's eye's filled with tears. "But…"

"No arguments," Dumbledore said. "I had to see Harry through his battle. Of course I'd like to see him restored to full health too…but alas, I have done all in my power, in that regard."

The darkness lifted a little and Harry felt for the hundredth time that he was swimming… swimming…swimming up through a heavy fog. Occasionally he found he could hear voices and sounds as though they were coming from a badly tuned radio. Occasionally he found he could discern light and darkness. It took a great effort. It was so much easier to sink back into blackness and quiet. This time was different somehow. This time without warning, Harry gasped and opened his eyes.

The room was blessedly darkened, with all the curtains pulled closed. Even so, Harry's eyes were struck by the sudden brightness of daytime. It caused him to blink and squint. He tried to turn his head. It took a supreme effort to do it. His muscles were stiff and sore. Still… he had to admit, it was a surprise to be alive. He worked the fingers of his wand hand and then groped on the bedside table for his glasses. They were there, thankfully, and he pulled them to him.

"Harry?" asked a tentative voice. "Harry! You're awake! Oh Harry!" and with those words, arms encircled him and a warm face pressed against his.

The hands helped him fit on his glasses and the room became clear. He recognized where he was. It was the hospital wing of Hogwarts; the smell of potions and bandages was rather comforting. He had spent many nights in this ward over the past seven years.

He took a shaky breath and felt his head with a weak and trembling hand. At the side of the bed, someone took his arm gently and laid it back on the covers. Ginny now came into focus. "You're awake," she said again, sounding profoundly relieved. Harry opened his mouth but was not able to make sound come forth. He tried to pull himself together, to figure out what had happened. His brain was very sluggish; his body felt limp and heavy.

The day of his fight with Voldemort was a bit of a blur. Harry lay back on his pillows and he tried to put the whole jumble back in order. Ginny brought a cup of cool water to his dry lips and he sighed as the liquid relieved the soreness in his throat. He looked up at her and she broke into a smile. Ginny…Ginny was where the day had started.

He remembered how he had awoken in the pre-dawn hours with Ginny in his arms. Pulling away from her in the darkness and going out to face Voldemort, was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Nothing less than avenging his parent's deaths could have made him leave her there.

Watching the lake and waiting was the worst of it. The black robed Death Eaters apparating, their cloaks billowing and their white masked faces as cold as the white icy surface they would battle upon. Then Voldemort coming to the fore, moving more snake-like than ever, as he glided forward. The scene in blacks and whites was disturbed by the glowing red eyes that never left Harry as he and Ron had approached.

"Vol…Voldemort…" he managed to whisper hoarsely.

Ginny nodded at him, "Dead…He's dead Harry. You did it."

Harry closed his eyes and breathed easier.

Forcing himself back to the present he managed to ask in a dry whisper, "What day is it?"

"It's a Saturday," she said quietly. "Here, take some more water." The cool liquid was sweet and wonderful. He wanted to drink and drink.

"Saturday," he repeated, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and forcing himself to think. "So...it's been a whole week I've been out?" He exhaled raggedly. "That's a record for me."

Ginny looked at him hesitantly, "Harry, it's been nearly five weeks. Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey insisted that you stay asleep for the first three. Dumbledore said that the Elixir of Life he gave you was only just enough to keep you from… leaving us. He only had a little, and he hoped it would be enough. We've all been desperately worried. Then Dumbledore seemed to feel you had turned the corner last week, and said you'd wake in your own good time."

"So it's what…March..."

"It's the second of April, actually," she said softly and she brushed his hair from his forehead.

"And I had the Elixir of Life…from the Sorcerer's Stone?" He wanted to continue but his throat was very sore. He swallowed then continued, croakily, "I wondered what he'd given me. But…Dumbledore destroyed the stone."

Ginny tipped some more water into his mouth. "Dumbledore did destroy the stone, but he kept a vial of the elixir that he didn't tell anyone about. When I went to him…when they brought you back from the lake…" began Ginny.

"He gave me some in the Great Hall," said Harry. Ginny looked at him questioningly. "I…saw it. I was there… and I wasn't… if you know what I mean. I think I might have been sort of dead for a moment or two."

Ginny nodded. "Everyone thought you were dead."

"And you went for Dumbledore," said Harry with a weak smile. "You saved my life."

"Then the score is evened up a bit," she replied, "Would you like to sit up a little?" she asked arranging pillows behind him.

Harry rolled to his side and pushed himself up on his elbow with difficulty. "I should get up," he said. With effort, he slid himself into a sitting position.

"Just stay, Harry. You should be resting," said Ginny but she did not restrain him. He liked that about her. She didn't treat him like an invalid.

Harry felt very dizzy. His head felt as though is must be spinning on his neck, but in a moment the sensation stopped. "So we did it," he said. "I guess I lost consciousness at some point."

Ginny, nodded at him. "Yes, you did it, Harry. Your air spell was fabulous. I saw part of it from the dormitory. Hermione says she thinks you must have done a bit of a water spell too, by accident. I guess the ice on the lake reacted just before the lightening struck Voldemort."

He was glad to have confirmation that the nightmare was over. His spell had been strong enough after all. "Yeah," he said with effort. "At the end, I didn't have a lot of control over it. We had to give the spell so much power." He and Ron had managed it, then. He could go on with his life now, free to do what ever he wanted.

"Ron!" he said suddenly, causing a brief fit of dry coughing. "Is he ok?"

Ginny nodded and helped him to more water. "And Hermione too. In fact, there were no deaths among the Order. Three Aurors died in the fight and about six Death Eaters, but the rest were caught and sent to prison, or else are on the run."

"Wait," said Harry, "Hermione? Wasn't she in the castle?"

"No, she was under Moody's invisibility cloak. She pulled you and Ron out of the way after you both collapsed. Moody said it was the best use that cloak had ever been put to."

"Really?" he replied, a bit astonished.

"Yes, I wish I'd have thought of it," said Ginny. "But of course, I couldn't have helped." Her words hung in air.

Harry sighed, and reached for her hand.

"I'm sorry I locked you in. I mean, I'm not sorry I did it, but I hope you'll forgive me." Harry had to stop and get a breath. He really did feel very feeble. "That night, before..." he said to her. "I had to lock you in, you know." Harry tried to pull his thoughts together. "It all happened so fast, though. I mean…are you really sure you want to be with me?" he asked.

"Oh Harry," she said incredulously, "I've wanted that as long as I can remember. Do you regret it?"

"What? Me? No!" exclaimed Harry, color rising to his cheeks. "I was never so happy. Do you think we're really... married?" he asked, lowering his voice. "I mean, is it official and everything?"

Ginny looked at him wisely, "It is to me."

He felt a warm and satisfied feeling spread through every part of him and he sank back on his pillows. It was perfect. Voldemort was gone, Ron and Hermione were all right and best of all, Ginny was really his. Then he sat back up again with a start, which caused a stabbing pain in his head. "Ginny..."

She seemed to know what he was going to ask and simply nodded her head.

"You mean..." he began.

"Madam Pomfrey says it will happen around the end of November."

"Wow," Harry said in awe. He couldn't believe it. He leaned over toward her, feeling very dizzy again, and he put a hesitant hand on her stomach.

"Silly," she said. "It's too soon to feel anything."

"Still," he said, beaming at her, "this is just…fantastic."

Ginny pushed him gently back against his pillows and he must have dropped off for a moment. Pleasant thoughts flowed freely through his brain, he felt satisfied and happy. Then something not so wonderful crept into his head. He had not thought about this before. He had not even considered it. Of course, there hadn't really been any time. Still, how could he have been so stupid? His eyes snapped open again. "Ginny, who knows about this? About us?"

"Only Madam Pomfrey, and she knows very little. She said she'd not tell anyone, but she was rather scandalized," grinned Ginny. "She made me promise to tell Professor Dumbledore, but I haven't done it yet."

Harry's brain whirled. Even though there had been no time beforehand, he was certainly honor bound to set things straight, and as soon as possible. After all, it had now been five weeks, according to Ginny. Harry swung his legs heavily over the side of the bed and began to slide his feet to the floor.

"Whatever do you think you're doing?" said Ginny, standing up and putting her arm around him to support him and to stop him toppling over. "You haven't been out of bed for month. You need to build up some strength."

"I think I can manage," said Harry, freeing himself from her and waiting for the spinning of the room to stop. "There," he said in a moment. "I'm quite all right."

Ginny gave him a hard look.

Harry felt his stomach roil as a fresh wave of dizziness swept over him. In a few moments, the sensation passed. I'm ok, he thought to himself. It was an amazing feeling to have his bare feet touch the cold floor. It felt good even though his legs were like rubber. He had to hang on the headboard for support. Still, he _was_ standing.

"Oh Dear! Oh My!" came a scream from the far end of the room. Madam Pomfrey came scurrying forward. "Potter! Stay in that bed! Gracious! You should not be up!"

Harry regarded her with a faint smile. "But I'm feeling fine," he began, as she arrived at his bedside and easily pushed him back down onto the bed.

"You are far from fine, but I am mightily glad you are awake," she said, rearranging his pillows and blankets. She quickly poured a small cup of some potion from a bottle on the bedside table and pushed it into his hand. "Drink," she demanded.

Harry knew better than to argue when Madam Pomfrey was in such a mood. He drank. The liquid was soothing on his dry throat and seemed to send warmth and vitality to his extremities. "Thanks," he said.

"I'm getting you some proper food, Potter. I think some soup. Do not move!" she said as she bustled off.

Harry let his head drop back and watched her go. "Ginny, can you send Hedwig to your family with a note? I think we should go visit them today, if they'll see us. Or use the floo network…whatever you think. Ron and Hermione should come too. If nothing else, I need to talk to your dad."

"Harry," said Ginny, who seemed to understand what he was planning, "It can wait a week or so… until you feel better."

"No Ginny, it's not right. I should have...well… asked for your hand, or something like that," said Harry, seriously. "I have to try and put it right." Then he looked up at her and gasped, "How is Mac?"

Ginny sighed and shook her head. "Calm down Harry, and I'll tell you everything…but only if you lay back and relax."

"Just for a minute then," he said. But lying back on the pillows felt very good. "I want you to contact your Dad, ok?"

"Harry, he could come here," said Ginny trying to dissuade him.

"No Ginny, I should go see him, and I need to do it right away."

Ginny looked at him in an appeasing sort of way and sighed. "Let's see then," she began. "Lupin is fine. So are all my family. Charlie had some minor injuries, but nothing to worry about. Tonks was hit by a curse, but she's recovered. A lot of the Death Eaters fled once Voldemort was gone. The Ministry caught most of them immediately and is trying to round up the rest. Most of their names are known. The captured Death Eaters were quite eager to talk and make deals."

Harry scowled. "The Ministry…"

"…is now being run by Amelia Bones. She's Minister now. Dumbledore was able to prove Bagman was a Death Eater to the Wizengamot. Once the entire story came out, Bagman was sent to Azkaban."

Ginny continued, "Emmeline Vance is in a bad way. They've got her in the spell damage department at St. Mungos. Remember that Auror, Dawlish? He was killed by a Death Eater. Oh, and Theodore Nott was a big help. He kept Moody from being killed at one point during the battle."

"And Mac?" asked Harry.

"Mac recovered. He turned the corner about two days after the battle. Madam Pomfrey says she'd never seen anything like it. He's still weak, but he says you can't keep an old battle horse down… or something like that. I've actually spent a good bit of time with him, while you were unconscious. He was just in the next room until two weeks ago. We'd play wizard chess together to pass the time. He comes over all gruff, but I really like him. He claims he's leaving Hogwarts, though. Wants a quieter life he says."

Harry nodded, taking it all in. "And Dumbledore, how is he?"

"He seems to have good days and bad days. He'd been here to check on you quite often, but Professor McGonagall told me he's been down in bed a good bit too."

So it was really all right, thought Harry. He almost expected to wake and find it was all a dream, and that he had yet to face Voldemort, but it seemed it was really…really over.

Harry steeled himself, and again slid out of bed. There was no excuse; he had to go see the Weasleys today.

Ginny looked at him reluctantly and seemed to sense that he wouldn't be deterred, but she made one last attempt to get him to stay in bed, before helping him dress in jeans and a sweater. She handed him his wand, which he stuck in his pocket, then she laced his trainers for him, for which he was grateful. Bending over had made him nearly black out.

"Let's go then, shall we," said Harry, pushing away from the bed. This time he wobbled much less. Ginny took hold of his arm, walking slowly with him towards the door to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey came flying from her office at the site of Harry out of bed. The matron tried to bar his path. "I forbid you to leave this ward, Potter!"

"Madam Pomfrey, this is something important…something I have to do now," said Harry weakly.

She nearly roared at him, "You _did_ the important thing. Now You Need Rest!"

Finally, Harry promised he would return in a few hours and get right back into bed, but he insisted that he was leaving in any case. They could hear her sputtering that she was going to report this breech of hospital protocol to the headmaster, as they made a slow progress together down the corridor and toward Gryffindor tower.

Ron and Hermione were playing a desultory game of wizard chess at a table near the window in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was so distracted that he had completely missed the fact that he had Hermione's king in check. His pieces were lobbing insults at him for not paying closer attention. Hermione was staring glumly toward the partially opened window, listening to the voices from down at the gates, drifting up to them.

"Can you believe that!" asked Hermione annoyed.

"They all want to know if he's alright, I guess," said Ron.

"They want to make money off him," she said angrily.

"Ya. I went down to the Quidditch pitch to have a little fly, and they shouted at me to come closer to the gate. They took loads of pictures and I even though I told them there was no change, I could barely get away," said Ron, moving and knight, then moving it back.

"Oh Ron, how could you even talk to those…those vultures?" scolded Hermione, "with Harry lying in the hospital wing?"

His expression saddened, "I don't know, I just wanted to do something… I'm worried too."

She glanced up at him and her fingers entwined in his. The noise of the opening portrait hole made both of them jump.

"Hi," Harry said a bit croakily.

"Harry!" they shouted, jumping up. Hermione wasted no time in throwing her arms around him. Harry winced. He hurt all over, and she backed off quickly.

"How did you get out of the hospital wing?" asked Hermione. "You look really pale."

Harry clasped Ron's arm and Ron grinned at him, then said, "No more air spells for me, mate." Then he said, "Glad you decided to join us again. We were worried."

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry. They looked at each other and did not need to say anything more.

Harry sank gratefully into a nearby chair. He kept hold of Ginny's hand and said, "You'll contact them then?" She nodded resignedly, and left at once.

"Contact who?" asked Ron, "Who do you need to contact?"

"Harry, if it's the press, they're all stationed down at the gates. Dumbledore won't let them inside and they're completely raving. Someone has to go down everyday and give an update on your condition," explained Hermione.

"Ya, the entire wizarding world wants to talk to you, give you awards and offer you jobs," said Ron. "I've been flooded with owls asking for interviews, but I said I wouldn't talk till we could do it together."

"I don't care about them," said Harry, flatly. "Can you two come along to the Burrow with Ginny and me today?" He had to remain focused on the single most important task in front of him. Nothing else was so important as this, and his ability to concentrate was seriously hampered right now.

"The Burrow?" asked Hermione and she looked at a dumbstruck Ron, "Well of course, if you like Harry, but are you feeling well enough for that?"

Harry could tell she thought his head was still a bit off. He nodded.

"Why do you want to go there?" asked Ron.

Harry pretended not to hear the question. "Hermione, Ginny told me how you saved us out there."

Hermione went pink. "Me? I just pulled you out of the way is all. You…and Ron did the rest," she exclaimed. "You were brilliant!"

Ron and Hermione took it in turns to give Harry a blow-by-blow description of everything they had seen during the duel.

"…and then Voldemort sort of turned into this great dirty snake. Then he just shriveled up," said Ron with gusto.

"Oh Ron, you were passed out on the ice by then," said Hermione with a laugh.

"Well, Charlie told me all about it," said Ron, recovering. Then in a more serious voice, "Did you hear about Malfoy?"

"No," said Harry. "Ginny filled me in a little, but I suspect there's loads I haven't heard."

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

"Well it has to do with that Slytherin, Theodore Nott," said Hermione

"What about them?" asked Harry. Nott had stayed to fight on the side of the Order. Harry had spoke with him briefly on the morning of the battle, but had forgotten about him, owing to being knocked out for a month.

"Nott helped our side… did you know that?" asked Ron. Harry nodded and Ron continued, "Well anyway, the next day, he went into Hogsmeade. Hagrid was bringing Draco out of the Hog's Head. I guess Draco was being sent home to his Mum. Dumbledore refused to allow him back at school after everything he's done. My dad said Dumbledore only kept him this whole time so he wouldn't have a chance to join the Death Eaters. Anyway, he saw Nott in the street and got free from Hagrid. He tried to curse Nott. Hagrid knocked him over the head, just as he tried to do the Avada curse. He missed, luckily, and they've sent him to Azkaban."

"Good," said Harry. "I hope they give him a nice long stay."

"Speaking of long stays, you look like you should have a good long lie down," chided Hermione.

They were both looking at him as though he were made of glass. In truth, he felt terrible, and moving about was not helping. Just then, Ginny came back through the portrait hole. "I've done it, Harry… but really…"

"Thanks," he said to Ginny, giving her a warm smile. She perched on the edge of Harry's chair. Harry steeled himself to get up, and travel to the Burrow.

"C'mon, let's go then," he said, pushing himself to a standing position. Now that he had it in his head, he was keen to do it, and right away, before he lost his nerve. Ginny took his hand and Ron and Hermione followed him. Harry paused when they reached the corridor. "You say the gate is mobbed?"

Ron nodded, "Reporters everywhere."

"Ok," said Harry, "I know another way."

He led them to Mac's old classroom and through into the deserted office. He instructed them to take the floo to the workroom. He wasn't sure they could use this particular fireplace to get to the Burrow and his brain was not working very clearly yet. He was simply plowing ahead the best he could.

As they each stepped into the fire, Harry steadied himself on the mantle. He was very light-headed. When they were all assembled in the workroom, he said, "We can apparate from here." Ginny asked him if he was up to it and he nodded, rather unconvincingly. Ron told him to go first and they would follow, probably suspecting the possibility of a splinching accident, or something worse.

Harry managed the apparition, but once he landed, he stumbled and landed flat on the ground, as his legs gave out. He took several deep breaths and pushed himself painfully back up to his feet. He was standing outside the Burrow and Ginny had just appeared. She looked worried as he climbed to his feet.

"Harry, let's just go back to the castle. Trust me, you're not well enough for this yet."

In answer, he took her hand once again. Two popping noises behind him told him that Ron and Hermione had arrived too.

As they started toward the house, the front door was flung open and Molly Weasley burst out, waving her arms and exclaiming their names. Mr. Weasley emerged with a broad smile and beckoned them all inside. In the kitchen, Harry found not only Bill and the twins, but also Charlie, and Lupin. Remus was looking better than Harry could ever remember seeing him. Charlie had a small bandage over his right temple, but other than that, appeared fine.

The entire Weasley clan gave Harry a round of applause and the twins catcalled as he entered. Harry felt his face go red.

Hugs, kisses and handshakes were dispensed liberally. Questions about Harry's health were shouted from all corners, or else congratulations on his and Ron's accomplishment. Harry felt dazed and distracted as the racket continued. Mr. Weasley was pouring mead into glasses and handing them around in preparation for a toast.

Clearing his throat, and raising his glass, Mr.Weasley said, "To Harry… The Boy Who Lived… grateful thanks for all you've done for us. You've saved the wizarding world from the darkest threat of our time. And to Ron who risked his life to help Harry. We owe you more than we can say!" All the Weasleys assented as one. Harry felt the flush in his face deepen even more.

"So, Harry, you called us here, didn't you. What can we do for the hero of the millennium?" asked Fred brightly. "George and I are happy to provide you with a lifetime supply of fine joke items at a very deep discount."

Everyone was laughing and smiling. Ginny stood much more quietly than usual next to Harry, gripping his hand. Now he was here and the moment had arrived, he wondered what had possessed him to attempt such a public announcement. Why hadn't he just taken Mr. Weasley aside, alone, and gotten his thrashing out of the way before taking on the entire Weasley family. What if they were all angry? There were a lot of them, as he scanned the sea of expectant faces. Harry gulped and cleared his throat.

"Everyone!" he said, attempting to get their attention. His voice was a bit gravelly yet, and he couldn't make himself heard over the general celebratory din. Ginny put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The room fell silent as they faced him with interest.

"Thanks, everyone," he began with a grateful look at Ginny. "I really appreciate all this," he said. "I...Uhhh...well actually we… that is to say, Ginny and I, have an announcement. So I'm glad you're all here."

His planned speech had floated out of his head and he felt panic replacing it. "I hope you all know how I feel about Ginny," he said pulling her near him. "I...love her very much, is the thing, and she's in love with me. Although I don't know that I deserve it. We...Ummm...talked the night before the duel, and we decided we should be married," said Harry, taking a breath. "When Ginny agreed, she made me the happiest person alive."

The Weasleys must have thought this was the entire announcement and began to jabber all at once. He heard someone in the room whisper the word 'engagement'. Congratulations flowed freely while Mr. Weasley beamed at them and Mrs. Weasley wiped fat tears from the corners of her eyes.

"A nice long engagement. How romantic! And it will give us plenty of time to plan the wedding," said Mrs. Weasley in a rapturous voice, albeit soggy voice.

"When is the big day?" shouted George over all the talking.

"Not for over a year, I should think," scoffed Mrs. Weasley in George's direction, "Ginny has school to finish, and lots of plans will have to be made..."

"Well," said Harry, who was beginning to think this might be easier then he imagined since they all seemed to like the idea. "It's already done."

Stunned silence followed his remark. Confused looks met his gaze and mouths hung open. "What are you saying Harry?" asked Bill carefully.

Harry felt wrong-footed as well as light-headed again. This was not, after all, going to be easy. "Yes, well you see, the night before we fought Voldemort, Ginny and I… got together...in my room. And we… talked… about how we wanted to be together no matter what happened," Harry registered that the smiles were a bit warier than before. "She stayed the night…in my room…and all...and…" A sort of frigid feeling filled the small, usually warm kitchen, as the formerly happy faces suddenly turned flat and tense.

Feeling as though blackness was closing in, Harry wobbled a bit then he steadied himself on a chair back. He was fighting faintness mixed with nausea and he could tell he had broken out in a cold sweat. Perhaps he should have waited at least one more day. Had he mentioned that he and Ginny were in love, and what they'd said to each other? He couldn't exactly remember. Judging by the looks on the faces in front of him, he must be doing this very badly. He decided to simply soldier on. "So… Ginny and I agreed we'd always be together… and we're having a baby, you see."

"You…what!" cried Bill. "My little sister…spent the night..."

"Uhh...yes," said Harry bracingly, trying desperately to think of something to say to put it all right. Charlie appeared to be trying to calm Bill down and the twins were whispering together. Ron just stood there, open-mouthed. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley's face was turning progressively redder, as Mrs.Weasley's turned white.

"So that's why you locked..." began Fred with interest, but a general din of questions rose up, drowning out his remark.

Harry's head was swimming. He was sure he had not explained the entire thing properly.

Ginny who had stood silently thus far, moved forward, whistled once again for silence, then spoke up. "Harry is trying to spare everyone's feelings, and I love him for it. But, as I'm the Weasley here, I'm going to tell you exactly what happened. Before I do, I want you to know that a good part of this is completely my doing."

Harry interrupted her, "No, Ginny, you know I wanted it too."

"Just spit it out, one of you, please!" said Bill, in a very irritated voice.

"Poor Harry here is fresh from a _COMA_, after killing _LORD_ _VOLDEMORT_, and barely able to stand as far as I can tell… yet, he's attempting to act the gentleman," scolded Ginny as she glared at her family. "So here's what really happened. Once I knew that Harry had challenged Voldemort, I gave our situation a lot of thought. On the night in question, I waited until I thought Harry had drunk the sleeping draught that Dumbledore sent him. Then, once his room was all quiet, I came in, and got into his bed." Mrs. Weasley gasped in dismay. "Oh, mother, really!" said Ginny.

"I knew he'd never consent to leave me with a child unless he was in a more...relaxed state," she squeezed his hand, as the family looked on, completely dumb-founded.

"Harry and I were, and are, very much in love. If he lived, I knew we would be together. We would have wanted to be married. But what if he didn't live? I wanted to give him a legacy of some kind, whatever the outcome of the battle. He has done so much for our family and the entire wizarding world, and what have we given back to him? He saved my life in the Chamber of Secrets when I would have died; say nothing about this summer and the mark. At the very least, I wanted for his name and bloodline to go on. I loved him and I wanted to give him that. I knew he'd never agree, but the potion rather softened him up."

"Softened?" whispered Fred incredulously to George.

Ginny shot him a filthy look and continued, "Still, Harry, being Harry, had only taken half of the stuff, and when he realized what I was up to he argued with me," she paused.

All eyes shifted to Harry, but it was hard to read the looks they held. Mr. Weasley's jaw muscle was moving nervously. Harry decided to take over.

"When Ginny told me what she wanted to do, well...I didn't see how I could let her, but she was determined and I...wanted a real family so much..." he broke off as a large lump in his throat made it impossible to for him to continue.

"When he saw that I wouldn't be refused, he did the most wonderful and romantic thing I've ever heard of," said Ginny, taking hold of both his hands and raising them to her heart. "He knelt and took my hands and promised to love me forever. Then I did the same." She paused again, smiling affectionately at him.

Harry felt warmth surge through him, as Mrs. Weasley let out another gasp into the silence.

Mr. Weasley coughed, "Did anything...happen...then? When you two made this promise?"

"Yes," said Harry. "This sort of sparkly red mist swirled around us when I made my promise to Ginny, and then it turned to gold when she gave hers to me."

In an awed voice, Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "Then you're…you're definitely meant for each other." Her voice almost squeaking now, as more tears rolled down her cheeks. She took Mr. Weasley's hand and said, "Oh, Arthur!"

Ginny was not done, although Harry thought it not a bad spot to stop. "So we did as I had planned, then. Our son will be born in November, according to Madam Pomfrey," explained Ginny and she looked around the room waiting for the reaction.

It would have been a brilliant time for them to disapparate, and Harry cursed himself for not planning such a signal before they started. Hermione was the first to catch her breath. "A baby? You're actually expecting a baby? But Ginny, you could have used the spell for…" Ginny shot her a look that silenced Hermione.

"The whole point was to _have_ Harry's baby, Hermione," replied Ginny firmly.

"But a baby...Ginny..." said Mrs. Weasley as Mr. Weasley pushed a large glass of mead into her hand, "You're so young, you're not done school, there hasn't been a proper ceremony with guests and…flowers…and…and a cake..." She rounded on her husband, "How will she complete school, Arthur? Where will they live?"

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry, "I have a house. Well actually, I guess I have about three of them. We'll live at Godric's Hollow if it's all right with Ginny. And I can afford a tutor if she wants one, or she can go to Hogwarts, or whatever she wants to do."

"Mum," said Ginny calmly, "You were married right out of school."

"Well, that was different. I was at least a year older than you and..."

She was stopped in her discourse by Mr. Weasley, who stepped forward. "Harry, we couldn't ask for a finer person to marry our daughter. You two are very, very young, but you're clearly meant for each other. You've both been through more than any wizards will ever have to deal with, and as you've entered into a magical contract, I think we should all be content and happy that everything will work itself out. I propose a toast," he said, lifting his glass. "To Harry and Ginny, may they live a long and happy life together." The family drank to them and then surged forward in a pack to pat Harry on the back and hug Ginny.

Ron approached him with look that was hard to read.

"You and my sister in the dormitory," Ron said flatly.

"She's very persuasive, you know," Harry said, apologetically.

Ron stuck out his hand. Harry took it. "Welcome to the family."

It was as if the tension of minutes before had simply vanished. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were now in full flow, telling Ginny that they still must have a wedding ceremony as soon as school was done. Mrs. Weasley was detailing any number to family heirlooms that should pass to Ginny as the only girl. Then they pulled her off, up the stairs so Mrs. Weasley could show her baby clothes she had kept stored.

All the Weasley men congratulated Harry in turn. Bill whispered that he guessed if his baby sister was to fall for someone, Harry was, after all, the perfect choice. Finally, Remus stepped up and shook Harry's hand. "When we talked last year about women, I didn't think you'd move quite this fast. What part of the lesson did I miss giving you?" he asked with a sly smile.

"You did just fine," said Harry grinning at him.

Harry heard the twins yell, "HIP- HIP- HOORAY!" while raising their glasses for another toast. The sound began to become muffled in Harry's head as noisy complements continued to be sent in his direction.

The whole thing finally got the best of him, and he swayed as his knees buckled, causing him to sink to the floor. Voices shouted around him, but they sounded very distant as though coming from down a very long corridor.

When Harry awoke, he was in his old four-poster in his dormitory room at Hogwarts. There was an argument in progress. He opened his eyes and retrieved his glasses from the bedside cabinet. Candles burned in the room and the sky outside the windows was now inky black.

"He'll be happier here…and I'll watch over him."

"He belongs in the hospital wing. Not out gallivanting around the countryside. He needs a lot of rest, no matter how he thinks he feels."

"Harry will want to be here and I promise to keep him down…and you can visit him. But I know Harry and he won't want to be tied to a hospital bed." The speaker was Ginny. Madam Pomfrey was standing in front of her with her arms crossed and a sour expression on her face.

Harry was just about to make it known that he was awake, when Professor McGonagall entered the room.

"Good! Minerva," said Madam Pomfrey. "We need to get a few things straight."

"Wait a moment Poppy, Professor Dumbledore is joining us. He's had a conversation with Arthur Weasley."

Madam Pomfrey did not seem to think that any conversation with Arthur Weasley was likely to change her mind about her patient, but the three of them stood silently looking at the door and waiting.

Dumbledore arrived within seconds, leaning on his cane, and sounding out of breath. "Chair, if you please," he wheezed. Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey and Ginny all rushed forward to assist him. McGonagall produced the requested chair with a flick of her wand, and Madam Pomfrey helped him into it. Ginny took his cane and leaned it against the wall.

"Thank you, all," said Dumbledore with a heavy sigh.

"You didn't have to come all the way up…" began Professor McGonagall.

"But I think I did," said Dumbledore. "It's easier this way, as all the key players are assembled here, and it appears we need to get a few points straightened out. I would prefer to do it immediately to avoid confusion and misunderstandings."

Harry cleared his throat, and they all looked over at him.

"Harry!" exclaimed the headmaster. "So good to see you awake. Excellent!" He smiled warmly at Harry. "Well, I believe I will begin."

Dumbledore straightened slightly in his seat and then surveyed them all. "First, Harry. You were nothing short of magnificent against Voldemort! Simply magnificent. I was more proud than I could say. Very clever of you to figure out that your friend Ron could help you boost the power of your Elemental spell. May I ask how you learned it?"

Harry flushed. He had kept this information secret from even Dumbledore. "I…read something my mum wrote in a journal. She didn't really understand it herself I think. I tried it with Ron and it did seem to help the spell."

"It most certainly did, and of course it answers the question of why the two of you went off on your own to practice," said Dumbledore comfortably. "Again, congratulations!"

"Not to diminish your accomplishment in any way, Harry, but I think we'll get to the business at hand. We can compare notes later," said Dumbledore brightly. Harry nodded, smiling. Then Dumbledore looked at the others in the room.

"It seems that we have a problem at the moment. Harry, you require rest, and a several potions to be taken every few hours. Is that correct Madam Pomfrey?" She nodded curtly. "We can hardly afford to lose you to poor medical care after you killed the greatest dark wizard of the age, and lived through it."

"Ms. Weasley and those who brought you back to school felt you would want to recuperate here, in your dormitory room. Ms. Weasley has been insisting upon it, in fact." Ginny nodded seriously. "Arthur Weasley was among those who returned you to school. He has provided me with certain information to help me understand the entire situation," said Dumbledore.

Harry was sure he knew what Mr. Weasley had told the headmaster and he felt, as he had done before, that he was honor bound to explain it himself. "Sir, I'm sure he told you about me and Ginny."

Madam Pomfrey gasped. "So it _was_ Potter?" she asked rounding on Ginny. "And you hadn't told Professor Dumbledore as you said you would," she said sternly.

Ginny looked at the floor.

"It's not her fault Madam Pomfrey. She wanted to tell me first, I think," said Harry. Ginny turned to him and grinned.

Professor McGonagall looked lost. "What ever are you talking about?" she asked.

"The baby is Potter's," said Madam Pomfrey in explanation.

"The….what?" said McGonagall sharply.

"Ginny and I are having a baby," replied Harry.

Professor McGonagall's thin face went very white. She sunk on to a nearby bed clutching at her heart. "A baby! How….where…? Never mind," she said weakly.

"I agree, the…a…details are unimportant," said Dumbledore, delicately. "I understand though, that Harry and Ginny made a binding magical contract before hand, in which they agreed to be bound together for life."

"They are… married?" asked Madam Pomfrey softly.

"I believe, based on Arthur's description, that there was red and gold mist too. Is that correct?" asked Dumbledore interestedly.

Harry and Ginny both said "Yes," simultaneously, smiling at each other.

The expression of everyone in the room softened, and both older women smiled in spite of themselves.

"So young, though," said Madam Pomfrey, who sniffed and pulled handkerchief from her pocket.

"Yes," said McGonagall, snapping out of her wistful reverie. "Young, and still in school. What's to be done, Albus?"

"I suggest we allow Miss Weasley..."

Harry cut across him, "Uhh…That's Mrs. Potter, sir," he said looking Dumbledore in the eye.

"Just as you say Harry," replied Dumbledore in amusement. "I think we can allow the Potter's," and he gestured to both of them, "to share this room for the remainder of term, or until Harry is well, and chooses to leave school. There are few students here to know, or care about the arrangement."

"But now that Voldemort is gone, we may have more students returning. We've already got back some of the ones we sent home before the battle," said McGonagall.

"I think we can manage, Minerva, regardless of how many return," said Dumbledore, with a finality that ended any further discussion of the matter.

He turned to Ginny. "Have you considered what you intend to do about your remaining year my dear?"

"I haven't given it much thought," she said. "But I'd want to finish my NEWTs, I guess."

"Well, do give it some thought," said Dumbledore, rising from his chair. "It would be lovely to have you back next year if you can manage it."

"But Albus, a pregnant student?" asked McGonagall.

"Yes! It should excite all sorts of interesting owls from parents. I can not wait." He winked at Ginny and patted her shoulder warmly, whispering, "Congratulations." Then he left the room, helped by Professor McGonagall.

Madam Pomfrey stayed back a moment. She waved her wand and half dozen potions appeared on the bedside cabinet. She looked uncertain. "He'll need to keep taking those," she said. "I'll be in to check on him in the morning. And….he'll need _complete_ rest." She emphasized the last word and looked significantly at Ginny. Then she turned with a sly smile on her lips, and left the room.

Ginny closed the door and leaned against it, looking over at Harry.

"Lock it, why don't you," he said.

Harry chafed at being kept in bed by the three women now watching over his recovery. Professor McGonagall had taken to visiting him once a day and testing his ability to perform magic. He had been very weak at first and even the simplest spells had drained him. McGonagall was surprised he had managed apparition the day he came to, given his inability to transfigure even the smallest mouse into a coin purse.

Madam Pomfrey came and went at various times during the day, checking his potion supply and asking him always, if he'd taken all the doses she had prescribed.

Ginny, who was trying feverishly to finish all her sixth year work, was absent during the day, but comfortably wrapped around him each night.

Ginny came bursting into the dormitory room a week after Harry had awakened. "Mac has agreed to finish any lessons I need to complete my NEWTs," she explained. "He says he can do it anywhere I like. He said he could get me through anything but Arithmancy, which he hates. We've had several long talks, and you know, I really like him."

"He might as well come stay at Godric's Hollow then. If that's right?" asked Harry. He was not entirely sure what was appropriate.

"Oh! Could we ask him? I'd love to have him!" Ginny cried, hugging Harry. "I think he needs company and looking after."

So it was that Mac took up residence in the suite of rooms on the ground floor where Aunt Petunia had stayed. Harry had a study added to the house facing out on the back garden where Mac could sit and work as he pleased. Fred and George had found a contractor to make the addition, using magic, and then had helped Mac move in. It was all accomplished in a few days time.

Just before he left for Godric's Hollow, Mac visited Harry in his dormitory room and handed him a Hogwarts completion certificate, signed by all his teachers. None of them seemed to feel exams were needed.

"But, what about my NEWTs?" Harry asked.

"Harry, you have an amazing number of very good job offers I hear…If that's what you are worried about. If you sit the exams, I'm certain the examiners will all give you "O"s just for showing up, but really, what is the point?" Mac smiled at him. "You are Harry Potter, a legend, a prodigy. No one is likely to question your abilities, boy." He doffed his hat and grinned as he left the room. "See you soon," he whispered.

The now nearly rabid reporters stationed at the gates were calling more loudly each day for a word of any kind from Harry, and he finally consented to an interview, including Ron, in hopes they would get their fill and leave him alone. When Rita Skeeter, a secretary, and three photographers turned up for the interview, Harry was not sure it had been such a good idea. Ron, however, was in fine form, and once started, could not be stopped from chatting on and on. He told them nearly everything, with many embellishments. He and Harry's pictures rated the front page of the Prophet, for days and days afterwards.

Ginny had finished all the schoolwork to complete her sixth year, including exams, before the month was finished. The small number of students made this very easy. So as April turned to May, it was time to go home to Godric's Hollow.

Life tried to find a normal pace. Mac spent each morning working with Ginny and in no time, he had her ready for her first NEWT exam. Dobby bustled about the place, cleaning and singing to himself. Harry, who felt stronger with each passing day, decided to set his mothers papers in order and add to her research notes on Elemental Magic.

Then of course, there was the pending birth. "She's a fine healthy girl and in good shape. This should go easily enough for her," Madam Pomfrey had proclaimed after examining Ginny in early June.

Harry harbored a strong dislike for St. Mungos, having nearly been killed there by Voldemort. Everyone from Dumbledore to Mrs. Weasley to Hermione had told him that the hospital had been completely purged of Death Eaters. Still, the place held very bad memories for Harry. The thought of his baby being born there did not give him comfort.

When Madam Pomfrey insisted that she and she alone would handle the delivery, he was noticeably relieved. In her, Harry had supreme confidence, although as she pointed out, he was never a very good patient. The matron, looking as strict as usual, but clearly pleased, had given Harry instructions on how to reach her, and what to do when the time came. Ginny simply smiled at him, both grateful for his involvement and amused by his intensity.

They had settled on the name James Arthur Harold Potter. Madam Pomfrey reminded Ginny that the sex of the child was not certain. Ginny, however, was positive. She had set out to give Harry a son and she knew the baby would be a boy. There was no doubt of it.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley had not been dissuaded from having what she referred to as 'a real' wedding. As June drew to an end, the wedding plans were taking over everything. Ginny had remained very calm and viewed the entire thing with amusement. Her mother, on the other hand….

It was nearly eleven in the morning and the ceremony was set to start at eleven-thirty. Hagrid was keeping watch at the gate to Godric's Hollow, and admitting only those on the invited guest list. The bright July day was warm and the air was filled with the smell of flowers in bloom. The garden had been set with small white chairs in rows, and the ivy-covered arbor had been festooned with white ribbons that fluttered and floated on the warm breeze.

Harry was nervously pacing the bedroom at the end of the hall, on the second floor, where he had been banished the previous night. Mrs. Weasley, succumbing to every imaginable superstition concerning weddings, had insisted that Harry not see the bride until the ceremony, which seemed to include the sleeping arrangements the night before hand. Harry who had become used to sleeping curled up with Ginny, found an empty bed to be surprisingly uninviting.

Ron was going to be the official witness, along with Hermione, who was nervous as a cat. The two of them had gone off to talk to Amelia Bones, Minister of Magic, who had insisted on presiding over the ceremony once she heard about it from Mr. Weasley.

Harry paced the room again. He really wanted to see Ginny. A garden full of guests was waiting for them and he felt butterflies in his stomach. It was silly really. They were already married as far as wizard custom went. Harry decided he'd risk the potential destruction of the known universe in favor of a few calming words from the women he loved.

He walked quietly down the hall to the room they normally shared. He rapped on the door, making sure no one was watching from the hallway below. "Come in," called Ginny. Harry slipped inside and was glad to see the room was empty but for her. She was seated, very straight-backed, on a pouf in front of a small dressing table with a large oval mirror. She was holding her hair atop her head and was pinning it up with her other hand. Her dress was long and straight and made of some white filmy, floaty material that seemed to shimmer. The buttons in the back were undone and open to the waist, revealing a sliver of skin that made Harry's mouth go dry.

Ginny smiled at him from the mirror. "You look very handsome," she said. Harry was wearing a black tuxedo, instead of dress robes. Ron had one on too. Hermione had decided that they would look smart in them. Ron thought his vest felt too tight and he kept shifting around uncomfortably until Hermione had given him a dirty look

"Thanks," said Harry. "You look...magnificent."

She laughed. "With my hair half done and my dress open in back? You're sweet," she said. Harry, however, was suppressing a strong urge to pick her up and put her down on the bed where removing the dress and mussing her hair would be the first order of business. "Do me up?" she asked. It was a credit to Harry's will power that he managed this operation with only the briefest kiss on the back of her neck.

She finished her hair and lifted a flower-covered circlet from the dressing table, placing it carefully on her head. Then she rose and smoothed down the front of her dress. Turning sideways to the mirror, "Do I show?" she asked.

"No," he grinned taking her hand. At such moments, he found her utterly irresistible.

In a few minutes, they were walking together into the garden where their friends and family were seated. Everyone rose and turned to look at them with bright smiling faces as they walked together up the center aisle to stand before the Minister, who would record their union.

Harry breathed in deeply of the pleasant summer air, and tried to walk very slowly up the aisle as Hermione had instructed. Ginny's dress rustled the grass as she walked next to him and he squeezed her fingers lightly as he smiled and nodded to the people he passed. The buzz of bees emanated from the flower garden off to his right. The patch of blooms with their white, yellow and purple heads, were adding their own sweet fragrances to the subtle current of air that wafted over the entire proceeding. A small rabbit stuck its head out from under a leafy bed and then streaked away to a less crowded part of the lawn. Harry relaxed, entwined his fingers with Ginny's, and thought to himself how very wonderful life was.

**Epilogue**

Ginny stood at the window of the bedroom on the second floor looking out over the back lawn. Ron had come over with his broomstick and he and Harry were chasing each other around, taking turns playing Chaser and Keeper. They were laughing and taunting each other as they looped and twisted in mid-air.

Ginny smiled. It was good to see Harry enjoying life, after everything he had been through in the years since his birth. It was amazing, really, that he hadn't turned out a criminal or a complete nutter. She did wish he'd pick up his socks from the floor, but then that was hardly in the same category, was it.

A scout from the Chudley Canons was coming tomorrow to have a look at both Ron and Harry for the team. Ron was wild with excitement. This was his life's dream. Even Hermione, who never had understood Quidditch properly, was excited for him. Harry said he'd really like to play Quidditch professionally if they'd have him. Ginny knew they'd both be taken on. The Canon's needed new talent, and Ginny knew enough about Quidditch to realize Harry, at least, was an excellent find. The pair of them, given their 'star' status, would be a huge draw for fans who wanted to see the now famous duo. Ginny suspected that the Canons were keen enough to have them both that they'd even change their colors from flaming orange if Harry or Ron asked.

Of course, Harry could walk into the Ministry and be hired on the spot as an Auror. She thought he might actually do that some day…some day when he'd had his fill of not having the fate of the world in his hands. For now, let him play games and have fun, she thought. He, above anyone else, had earned it. She stroked her swelling stomach. Harry seemed so content nowadays with his home and pending family and the prospect of just playing some Quidditch.

Ron and Harry were back down on the ground again and getting ready to release another Quaffle. As they kicked off into the air, the baby kicked too. Madam Pomfrey was predicting two more weeks. Ginny smiled and whispered, "Soon, little one, soon." Her mother was literally dying to get her hands on her new grandchild. Between Harry, Hermione and Mac, she'd have to get in line.

Harry still awoke in a cold sweat some nights with lingering nightmares, although these events were becoming far fewer. She was always able to calm him with a soothing word or a gentle kiss. It had been over a month since the last bad dream and Ginny expected they would soon disappear for good.

Harry and Ron whooshed past the windows of the upper floor. Harry grinned cheekily at her as he passed. She smiled back at him and waved, then stepped away from the window and laid some folded sheets into the bureau. It wouldn't be long, thought Ginny to herself…it wouldn't be long until little James arrived. It wouldn't be long until the only lingering reminder of the horror that had been Voldemort, was Harry's now fading, lightening bolt scar.

AUTHORS NOTE:

Thank you for reading and for your reviews. It really does provide motivation to continue. I expect to be writing a series of Fred and George stories next. Look for them in the coming months.


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